The Power of Slushies
by AngelRosiel
Summary: Warning: Slash! Lance/Pietro fic. Chapter 8: The last chapter (oooh!). So as to make this chapter seem more interesting than it really is (;P), that's all I'm gonna say. Don't read this if slash (male/male) offends you, as I don't wish to be flamed.
1. Kissies

DISCLAIMER: Oh, come on, you know that none of these characters belong to me and they never will. I am just borrowing them. 

A/N: This sucks!! ;_; Feh. Anyway, WARNING: This is SLASH! That means boy/boy stuff. Or in other words gay stuff. If you disapprove, don't like, think it's evil, or it's simply not your thing, please don't read this! Okay, now that I've weeded out most of my potential readers... uh, I can't think of anything else to say. I'm sleepy. I'm also not sure what this fic is about anymore. Oh well, it's Lance/Pietro (Avalanche/Quicksilver) and there's probably a bit of OOCness. Okies, I stop babbling now. ^_^ 

* * * * * 

The new kid was beginning to get on Lance Alvers' nerves. Always zipping around, speaking at annoying speeds, following him around when he wanted to be alone. His intense desire to hit the other boy was subdued only by Mystique's orders. 

_"Take special care of him."_

Special care. Lance scoffed. What he wanted to do was catch the little speed demon, smack him silly, ravage his tender lips, tear his clothes off and-- 

_No!_ he reminded himself as a frustrated groan escaped his mouth. _You do not find him attractive. He is not attractive. He's an obnoxious little pest with a nice ass-- ARGH!_

*thud* Ow. *thud* 

"Lance?" 

"What?" he mumbled irritably. 

"Why are you hitting your head against the table?" 

Shrug. 

"Something botherin' you?" 

"We're out of cereal." 

"So you're bangin' your head?" 

"Yes. Anything else you wanted to ask, Todd?" 

The other mutant blinked. "Well, I just came in to make some breakfast. Um... wanna help?" 

"Sure." _That oughtta take my mind off of Pietro and his stupid cute ass._

Silence. 

"Umm," Toad started nervously. "So you gonna get up?" 

"Huh? Oh. Okay." Lance got up from his seat and walked over to the fridge. "So, what're we having today?" 

"I dunno." 

Lance groaned. It was going to be a long day. He could already feel a headache forming, and mentally reminded himself that banging his head against a table was not a good way to deal with his bothersome feelings. 

* * * * * 

"These eggs suck," Rogue mumbled as she poked at her breakfast. 

Lance frowned. "Well then, you make breakfast next time." 

"Ah will then!" she snapped back defensively. 

Girls. PMS. Wonderful. Muttering obscenities under his breath, he sipped his coffee and waited for complaints yet to come. _At least Freddy appreciates our cooking_, he noted as he watched the massive teen help himself to another serving of fresh-out-of-the-toaster waffles. Todd munched happily on his food, as well. And Pietro... 

"Where's Pietro?" 

The others shrugged. 

"He never showed up for breakfast," Toad said helpfully. 

"Argh!" Lance growled. Lance growling became a very characteristic occurrence ever since Pietro showed up. 

"What's your problem?" 

"Him!" 

"Well, calm down before you get a hernia," Rogue muttered, scowling ever so pleasantly. 

_Damn him! Damn him for being so damn cute! And... and.... cute! And argh!_

"Lance, you're... um, making the house shake," Toad reluctantly pointed out. 

"Huh?" Abruptly, the house's convulsions ceased as Lance realized what he was doing. 

"Hey, I'm trying to sleep!" came a quick voice from upstairs. 

_It's him! Grr!_

"Sorry, Pietro," Lance called in a strained voice, trying to sound as nice as possible. For a little adrenaline nut, the slender boy was remarkably sluggish in the morning. In fact... "I'm gonna wake him up," Lance announced to the other three mutants, a sly grin pulling at his lips. 

"Whatever, man," Freddy said carelessly, silently hoping that Lance would take just enough time for him to grab another helping. The puny waffles weren't enough to keep him satiated for long, so the more he had-- the less he had to share with Pietro and the others--, the better. 

"Take yer time," from Rogue. 

"Have fun," from Todd. 

And thus, Lance departed, intent on snatching the newest addition to the Brotherhood and give him a wake-up call. 

* * * * * 

_Wait a minute! What exactly was I planning on doing?_ Lance thought as he entered Pietro's room. He saw the slim figure wrapped in blankets and his mind went blank. Well, not totally blank, it was more like this: _Cute. Yummy little body. No! Bad Lance!_

Yes, he was reduced to a zombie-like state and began thinking about Pietro's body, even though he couldn't really see the other boy's form very well. 

_Now I remember._

He shook his head to clear his mind and set his goal in sight. He was going to kiss Pietro Maximoff. He was going to prove how much he _didn't_ lust after the speedy little punk by kissing him. How would this work? Well, first, when Lance kissed Pietro and felt absolutely nothing, he would be certain that there were no feelings that he carried for the white-haired sophomore. Also, he would scare Pietro in the process, and that would be a plus. It'd be like saying, "Not only do I not like you, but I'm gonna scare the hell out of you by making you think that I _do_ like you!" 

Sometimes, Lance amazed even himself with his logic. 

So, he gathered up his courage (it didn't take very long to do) and walked towards the bed. He stopped and stared at Pietro's peacefully sleeping face. 

_I'll fix that_, he thought, smirking. _Time to wake Sleeping Beauty up. No, wait! Not beauty! Whatever!_ He was tempted to run a hand through the sleep tousled hair, noting how (_No! Not!_) attractive it looked. _Not attractive not attractive-- Ah, to hell with it._

And so, Lance Alvers leaned in to snatch the youth's unsuspecting lips in an awkward kiss. The fifteen-year-old stirred almost immediately, and Lance awaited his moment of victory; the moment that he would finally prove to himself that he, indeed, had no feelings for Pietro Maximoff. So, he waited for Pietro to push him away and get pissed off. 

And he waited. 

Even as the lanky arms wrapped themselves around him and the other boy kissed back, he waited. 

_Wait a minute... Where's the repulsion?! Where's the "Dude, get the hell off of me!"?! And why won't this fluffy feeling in my stomach go away-- oh no._

Lance then came to a few horrific conclusions. He liked being kissed by Pietro. He liked kissing Pietro. Kissing Pietro made him and his groin very happy. Sticking his tongue down Pietro's throat was a very pleasant experience... 

And then Lance fully realized that he was kissing _Pietro_, and abruptly shoved the sleepy mutant away. He eyed the flushed cheeks, the widened blue eyes, the parted lips, and held back the urge to tackle his teammate. 

"What was...?" Pietro gasped, sounding shocked and breathless. 

"That was... uh...." Crap. He could feel his face redden. "I just wanted to test your reflexes! No, wait, that's not it. I heard from... uh, Blob that you could only be awakened by a--" 

"GetOutGetOutGetOut!" 

It took Lance a few seconds to register that command, considering the speed at which it was spoken. Not that it mattered, since he was very quickly shoved out of the room by Pietro, and in a flash, the door was closed and locked. 

Oh yeah. Lance had forgotten what Pietro's powers were. They didn't call him Quicksilver for nothing. 

* * * * * 

It was a few minutes before Pietro decided to grace the kitchen with his presence. His presence only lasted for a few seconds as he zipped down, grabbed some breakfast, and ran back upstairs. 

Lance had the insane feeling that he was going to be avoided for a while. 

"Man, what's his problem?" Toad asked as he cleaned his own plate in the sink. 

"Somebody needs to get that boy some sedatives," Rogue noted, scraping the remainder of the "sucky" eggs into the trash-can and then handing the plate to Todd. 

"Yeah, seriously!" Lance agreed, adding a very forced laugh. 

The other three members of the Brotherhood stared at him. 

"Uh... so what did you do to him?" 

"Nothing!" Lance snapped. "Nothing at all! I just woke him up and he got pissy!" 

He was still being stared at and he didn't like it. 

"Argh!" he snarled, kicking a chair for good measure. "You guys are acting weird! I'm going out for a walk!" 

And with that, he stormed out of the house, making sure to slam the door just so that they had an idea of how angry he was. 

"We're acting weird?" Freddy asked, quite confused. 

"Nevermind him," Rogue grumbled. 

"What a spaz," Todd added, shaking his head sadly. 

"IsHeGone?" Pietro called from his room. 

"Huh?" replied the others. They were tired, and it was too early in the morning (for them, anyway) for them to translate "Pietro Speak" to "Normal Speak". "Speak slowly." 

"Is. He. Gone?" 

"Yes." 

Whoosh! 

"So... what's the deal with you and Lance?" inquired Todd. He was determined to get some answers, and it was rather obvious that Lance would never cooperate. 

"I-- uh, he..." Stormy blue eyes darted around nervously. "He woke me up from this really awesome dream, so I'm kinda mad at him." 

"Was it about a chick?" Freddy asked, chuckling and nudging Pietro in the ribs the way that guys do. 

"Uh... Yeah! ItWasAboutRogueAndSheWas-" 

"Ah don't want to hear about _that_! It's sick!" She pointed a very threatening finger at Pietro and adopted her trademark scowl. "Don't ever dream about me again, ya little freak!" 

"Aww, come on, Rogue, baby! I can't help my manly urges!" Pietro cheered inwardly. Thank God they believed his little alibi. 

"Uh huh." 

Not convinced. Damn it all. He shot a glare at Todd. _How could that little toad be so... so... _Well, Pietro couldn't think of a word for it, but when he did, that word would be what Todd was. (A/N: Did that make any sense at all?) 

"What?!" Pietro snapped in his own defense. 

"You wouldn't be that mad if it was just about a dream. And Lance wouldn't be acting so freaky," Todd pointed out. 

"You'd be mad, too, if your dream was as hot as mine," Pietro retorted, crossing his arms over his chest to indicate that he would stay firmly with his current argument. 

"Shut _up_, ya pervert!" 

"Sorry, Rogue." 

"Whatever," Todd said with a knowing smirk. 

The fact that he was giving up so easily unnerved Pietro, who could think of no response other than: "Yeah!" And then: "You guys are lame! I'm outta here!" 

Whoosh! and he was gone. 

"Wow, those two are nuts," the still confused Fred marveled. 

* * * * * 

Lance wanted to level the place. It was such a bright Sunday afternoon, and so a few happy couples were all flocking to the park like flies on rotting meat. They made him mad. He was miffed, to say the least. Didn't they have better things to do than mock Mr. I-Just-Kissed-A-Stupid-Little-Sophomore-Boy-And-Liked-It with their happiness and their groping and their-- 

No, he would not bring himself to say "Argh!" this time. Instead, he was going to bring himself to say some punny sentence involving the word "rock" and wreak some major havoc. Yeah, that sounded nice... 

In fact, he was going to do it, too, had he not noticed a certain hyperactive basketball player dashing across the court, playing what looked like a one-on-three game. 

Oh, goody. Why must his luck always be like this? He leaves the house to escape Pietro and clear his thoughts, only to find the object of his hypothetical desire in the same place. In the same place, and playing basketball with _them_, no less. Summers, Daniels, and Wagner. Damn it all. 

_Why me?_

It was a good question, but Lance could think of no logical answer. So, instead, he put on his usual crude demeanor and stalked over to the court. 

"Pietro!" he called. "What the hell are you doing with _them_?!" 

"Crap." Movement ceased and the basketball was promptly stolen from his hands by the newest X-Geek. "Hey!" 

"I took it fair and square, man, you just stopped in your tracks!" 

"Yeah, well, it was his fault. He distracted me!" Pietro argued, pointing an accusatory finger at Lance. This only seemed to displease Lance more. 

He didn't like having his question ignored, so he said firmly, "Pietro, you didn't answer me." 

"Oh, well, I just saw Daniels here and told him and his buddies that I could beat all of them at basketball. So, here we are. And I was kickin' ass until you showed up." 

"You were not!" the German kid retorted. 

"No? Well, what do you call all of those baskets I made?" 

"You were cheating!" Evan insisted. 

"Oh yeah?! You're just saying that because you can't handle losing to me!" 

It was then that a spat broke out. Pietro and Evan yelled hotly at each other, and soon enough Kurt joined in. Summers simply stared at Lance, probably glaring heroically at him from behind those stupid sunglasses. Lance could feel the muscles in his face twitch. Great. He just got himself a tick. 

"What are you doing here, Alvers?" 

Ah, yes. Lance had forgotten that Summers was the self imposed dictator of the world. "I was... looking for Pietro!" Lance said quickly. "What are you doing here?" 

"I was trying to enjoy my leisure time until your little _friend_ showed up." 

Oh, how Lance wanted to punch the overconfident goody-goody. He could feel a blush creeping to his face in response to Scott's words. "He's _not_ my little friend. Pietro! What are you doing, anyway, playing a friendly game with the enemy?!" 

The heated debate halted. "Friendly? Whoever said this was _friendly_? I was just showing these X-Geeks how to play real basketball. There was no friendliness involved," Pietro explained, and then shoved Evan to prove his point. 

"Hey!" 

Fighting would have ensued, had Lance and Scott not taken certain preventive measures. That is, they grabbed their respective teammates and held them back. Pietro's pale face immediately turned a lovely shade of red and he pried himself from Lance's grip. 

"I can-- by myself-- yargh!" And he was gone. 

Lance's feelings that he was going to be avoided were confirmed. And wasn't "yargh!" _his_ thing? No, wait... "argh!" was his thing. 

"What's his problem?" asked Kurt. 

Lance shot him one of his deadly glares and shook his head. "Well, it's not me, if that's what you're thinking!" 

He was met with blank stares. Lance really didn't like being gawked at, and unfortunately it was happening more and more lately. 

"It's not!" he insisted. "Oh yeah! Well, I'm gonna rock-- no, boulder-- Oh, I can't think of a pun outside of battle! Screw you!" 

After the insane outburst from Lance, Scott was on the verge of losing his temper. Why? Because Avalanche, his nemesis, was annoying him and his friends. That, and Scott liked to find excuses to fight his Brotherhood counterpart. 

However, Lance sensed this and as much as he wanted to pound Summers into the ground-- (_I really hope that wasn't an innuendo. I'm having a hard enough time dealing with Pietro thoughts, I do not need to add Summers to my list. Eww._)-- he decided it was best to sort things out with the adrenaline hyped Pietro. Yes, Lance was ready to prioritize! 

Actually, what he _really_ wanted at the moment was a slushie. He felt that he deserved a little treat before confronting Quicksilver. After the slushie, he would deal with his feelings and the object of them. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. But first, he had to peacefully (_Peacefully?! No!_) resolve the situation with the X-Geeks/Freaks/Dorks/whatever other insult he could think of. 

_How do I avoid a fight that I obviously want to take part in?_ he wondered as his eyes locked on Scott threateningly. _Well, I suppose I could do the unexpected..._

Lance then broke into a big, stupid grin and waved at them. "Bye! Enjoy your day!" he cried cheerfully. He turned and walked away, wishing he could see the looks on the X-Men's faces. 

Oh well. After things were sorted out with Pietro, he would stew in the juices of creative revenge and come up with some awesome plots against the X-Men and think up more rock puns. 

Wow, he was going to have a very busy day. 

* * * * *

A/N: Chapter 1 is now over! Aren't you happy? Blah. Okay, well this story turned out not the way I expected and... yeah. 


	2. Happy Meeps!

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own this characters. I wish I did. Then Pietro would be my little love monkey. ^_^ j/k. Or am I? Anyway, I'm just borrowing these boys (and girl). 

A/N: A big thanks to all the people who sent me reviews! ^_^ Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Okay, this chapter's a little messed up. I really don't like the way it turned out. Too melodramatic in some parts, too sappy in others, bleeeh. Plus, my beta reader doesn't exactly watch Evo, so she can't tell me if they're even in character or not. -_-;;; I also didn't intend to have song lyrics thrown in the middle of the chapter (since that's just not my style :p), but my mp3 playlist apparently had other ideas...   
  
Oh, and I took the liberty of giving Pietro an alternate past for the sake of this series. It's pointlessly brought up in this chapter, but I wanted to get it out of the way in case I make a casual reference to it later. And... um... that's enough of my bitching for now. ^o^;; 

**Chapter 2: Happy Meeps!**

Pietro paced around his room. He had been pacing for several minutes, tracing the same path on the carpet repeatedly. To him, the minutes seemed much longer, and he was growing both bored and a little dizzy. Sighing, he flopped down on his bed and stared up at the very blank ceiling. 

"Hello," he said to the dull plaster. "I have a problem." 

The ceiling wasn't very responsive, and its lack of response made Pietro feel like an even bigger idiot. At first, the ceiling reminded him of his teammates. Whenever he tried to talk to them, he was usually met with either blank stares or nothing at all. After thinking for a little longer, it started to reminded him of his last home. Plain, white, a little boring, but otherwise all right. 

Oh, damn symbolism. He hated relating his life to inanimate objects. Since he could remember, everything was a big blur of foster homes. His sister was taken away from him and adopted a long time ago, but who really wanted some hyperactive problem child like him? His last "parents" didn't want him all that much, he could tell, and they were more than happy to hand him over to Mystique's (or whatever ideantity she was posing as at the moment) custody. 

They, his last parents, never really let him have anything to distinguish that his room was his. Sure, he had belongings and all that, but he wasn't allowed to personalize the room with paint or posters or, well, anything. They said it would ruin the walls, and thus, the value of the house. 

Not that it really mattered. He didn't need posters or any of that stuff. The only reason he wanted them in the first place was to cover up the emptiness in the room. 

Pietro blinked. Why the hell did he just regress to stupid pseudo-angst mode? Sometimes, he wondered how (or why) his thoughts jumped from one topic to another without ever resolving his initial problem. Oh well. Back to Lance. 

Lance had kissed him. For a few seconds, it was the best thing he had ever waken up to; so much better than his shrill, demented alarm clock. He wasn't sure at first what it was for, but he was enjoying it. That is, until Lance shoved him away and he realized it was nothing more than a cruel joke. 

Pietro grabbed his pillow and covered his face with it. "Fuckin' bastard... He's such a jerk," he mumbled into the soft pillow. "He can go to hell, for all I care. I don't care about him at all. Nope, not at all." 

_Yeah. Right._

He screamed angrily into his pillow as he realized that lying to himself was entirely futile. Venting his frustration vocally, at least, allowed him to feel some sort of satisfaction. Of course, it would probably give him a sore throat as well. Well, at least it would be a well deserved sore throat. 

"Shut up, ya little crack monkey!" he heard Rogue roar from her room next door. 

Okay, so he screamed a little louder than he thought. 

"What the hell is goin' on? I'm trying to watch the TV and you guys are all yellin'!" 

"Sorry, Rogue! Sorry Todd!" he apologized loudly, removing the pillow from his face. 

_Yeah, they love me here_, he thought sarcastically. It was sad that Todd of all people, was his closest friend at home and Bayville High at the moment. They weren't even that close, either, Pietro just happened to be on friendlier terms with him than the rest of the Brotherhood. 

He didn't really know why the Brotherhood didn't take too kindly to his arrival. Was it because he was an arrogant, fast-talking kid with a fresh criminal record? Or was it because they considered him to be a prep? 

Okay, so he did dress a little preppy, and he was involved in sports at his last high school, but that didn't make him someone like Duncan Matthews. He supposed that they might just dislike him because he was the "new guy" in the group. Or maybe-- 

_Oh, fuck it. They hate you and don't want you in their group. The End. _

He had a bad feeling that the household of the Brotherhood would wind up being exactly like all of his foster homes. Not really wanted, just there because he was the pity case, and then kicked out when he got too annoying. 

Funny, he had really looked forward to moving into his new home. 

_Nobody wants you. Get used to it,_ he told himself, rolling onto his side and resting his head on one arm. _For a split second, you thought that Lance wanted you, and look how that turned out._

Miserably. A hideous failure. After he kicked Lance out of his room, the only thoughts racing through his head were: _IWannaDieIWannaDieIWannaDie!_

It wasn't in the suicidal sense, of course. It was more like the "I'm so fucking embarrassed I wanna die" sense. He had paced for minutes, raced downstairs to grab some breakfast, then came back upstairs to collect his thoughts. Once they were collected and he chatted with his "family", he decided that a nice visit to the park would help clear his mind. 

Instead, Lance came and interrupted his "No Lance Thoughts" time, yelling and treating him like a child who had broken some sort of sacred rule. 

_Fraternizing with the enemy._

Pietro could almost hear the lecture waiting to erupt from Lance's lips. God, it was embarrassing. At that moment, he was more thankful than ever that he was Quicksilver. To think, what would happen had he stuck around to hear Lance's shit. 

What hurt him more than the minute blow to his pride was the way that Lance was acting about the kiss. It never happened. Let's pretend that it didn't exist, shall we? Let's keep this between you and me. 

Except that it never really went that way. It was more like: "Wakey, wakey, I'm kissing you! Crap! I'm kissing _you_? Get away from me!" 

Because Pietro was Lance's the victim in this little mess, it was okay for him to pretend that the kiss never happened. But Lance started it, damn it! It was _his_ job to finish it! 

Pietro blinked. Why the hell did he just regress to stupid angst mode _again_? He really needed to learn how to make his thoughts stop jumping from one topic to another without ever resolving his initial problem. _My mind is just one big segue_

Suddenly, Marilyn Manson's voice pierced through his thoughts. 

"Great." He rolled his eyes. "Just what I needed." 

He was about to pound on the wall and tell Rogue to turn her music down, but paused as he listened to the lyrics. 

_When I hate it I know I can feel but When you love it you know it's not real No _

Shoot myself to love you If I loved myself I'd be shooting you. 

_Wonderful. Now I find myself relating with Marilyn Manson's music._ Stupid Lance. Now the song was reminding him of the boneheaded jerk. He closed his eyes and listened to the song die, only to be replaced by _another_ depressing song. 

He pounded on the wall and shouted, "Rogue! Turn your music down! I don't wanna listen to that crap!" 

"It's better than the shit you listen to!" she retorted from the other side of the wall. 

"I don't care if it's better or not, I don't wanna listen to it!" 

"Fine." 

Pietro was slightly stunned. Rogue actually _listened_ to him! Sure, she argued a little, but he finally prevailed in the end. One point for Pietro. Woohoo. His day was looking up. 

Downstairs, a door slammed. 

"Pietro? We need to talk!" 

Lance. Did the guy ever give up? _You'd think running away from him would've given him a hint._

"If you're not gonna come down here, then I'm just gonna have to go up there," he threatened. 

_Go ahead._

"And I don't care if your door's locked, I'll bust it down." 

_Yeah, right._

"Lance, what are you yelling about? Can't a guy watch TV in silence anymore?!" 

"Shut up, Todd." 

Heavy footsteps carried themselves upstairs and stopped in front of his door. Pietro eyed it calmly, waiting to see if Lance follow through with his threats. 

Knock, knock. "Come on, I know you're in there." 

"Yes, I am. You're quite observant, Lance." 

"So, open the door." 

"No." 

*click* The door opened and Lance stood in the entrance to his room. 

"I thought you said you were going to break the door down," Pietro pointed out flatly, sitting up. 

"I, uh, thought using the key would have better results," Lance replied hesitantly. Pietro arched an eyebrow. God, was Lance... nervous? 

Good, let him be nervous. 

"What did you want to talk about?" 

Lance stepped in and closed the door behind him. "I'm, uh... well... I'm sorry about this morning." 

"Oh, that? Think nothing of it. I've already forgotten about it." 

"Don't lie, Pietro,' Lance said, shaking his head barely. He frowned seriously and continued. "I shouldn't have just kissed you like that." 

"And I shouldn't have enjoyed it like the big idiot that I am," Pietro snapped, then abruptly covered his mouth and widened his eyes. _Shit! WhatDidIJustSay?!_

It didn't come as much of a shock to Lance, who remembered the slender arms wrapping around him and the lips kissing him back. "Don't freak out, Pietro, I already know you enjoyed it." 

"No, you're just, uh... FullOfYourself! YeahThat'sIt!" 

"Speak slowly." 

"Sorry," he apologized, blushing. He really hated blushing, especially in front of Lance. "I just kinda talk like that when I'm nervous..." 

They sat (well, one sat, the other stood) in silence for a few excrutiatingly long minutes. Pietro glanced at the clock by his bed. It was only 2 PM. What a long day... 

"Why do you guys hate me?" he suddenly asked. 

"Huh?" came Lance's ever clueless response. 

"I said: Why do you guys hate me?" he repeated. 

"Oh. We don't hate you. I don't think, anyway." 

"No, you don't, do you? And don't make stuff up. You guys obviously have a problem with me." 

"No, we're just not used to you yet, that's all. I mean, you've only been living here for a little over a week." 

"It's funny," Pietro laughed softly. "I really was looking forward to moving in here. I thought, 'Hey, here's my chance to finally be with other people like me!' I thought I'd be wanted here, of all places." 

"You are wanted!" Lance protested, much to his own surprise. Well, the slushie had some powerful effects on him, so he was determined to fix things and hopefully get Pietro to share his feelings for him. And then maybe he could get him in bed. No, wait. One step at a time, Lance. "I like having you--" 

"Don't patronize me!" Pietro spat, throwing his pillow at a speed that Lance was completely unprepared for. Needless to say, Lance was quite shocked when his face came into contact with the cushy projectile. "You can't stand me!" 

"That's not true," Lance said quietly, grabbing the pillow and dropping it to the floor. 

Pietro shook his head insistently, his eyes shut and his fists clenched. He could feel himself tremble and immediately hated himself for it. 

_Why the hell am I acting so weak right now?_

He wanted to be left alone. He wished that Lance wasn't in his room and wondered when the older teen would just take a hint and leave. 

Strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around his frame, and he opened his eyes to see Lance. He was being hugged by Lance Alvers, the asshole who had regarded him as nothing but a pest up until now. Lance Alvers, the asshole who kissed him then shoved him away. 

"Get. Off," he said shakily, but firm enough to sound serious about it. 

"No. I _like_ you, Pietro. That kiss-- when I pushed you away, I was just confused." 

"Then why did you do it?" 

"I just couldn't think of any other way to deal with my feelings. Hell, I didn't even know what my feelings were at the time." 

"So, what? You just woke up and said 'Hey, let's see if I'm gay!' Thanks for using me as your test subject. I'm flattered." 

"That's not how it was." _Okay, maybe it was, sorta,_ Lance admited to himself. 

"So how was it?" Pietro challenged. "Tell me." 

"It was just..." He paused to think of what to say. _Argh! I hate opening up to people!_ "I've been having problems ever since you came here," he finally said, a little reluctant to let the words escape his lips. 

"That makes me feel welcome. Aren't you supposed to convince me that I'm wanted?" 

"Damn it! That's not what I meant! Listen, I've never really been attracted to guys before, so it freaked me out when I started thinking about you in 'that' way." Wow. Opening up was a lot easier when thoroughly frustrated. "I did that stupid kiss thing to try to prove to myself that I didn't like you. It didn't work as well as I had planned." 

"I... I..." Pietro was at a loss for words. He sputtered nervously, then exploded with: "Why are you being so... so open?!" 

"I had a slushie," Lance said with a slight smile. "Went straight to my head. So, what do you think?" 

"I don't know. What do I think about what?" 

"About... us, I guess. Is there any chance in hell?" 

"Lance, are you formally asking to date me?" Pietro teased. "I think... you need more time to think about what you're asking for. You don't even know if I share the same feelings for you." 

"Oh, come on. This morning, you wrapped your arms around me and kissed me back." 

Pietro laughed softly and pulled out of Lance's arms, finally grinning. "Yes, but I could've been pretending that you were Rogue. Your hair's about the same length..." 

"Seriously, tell me what you feel." 

_Behold! The power of slushies!_ Pietro thought with amusement as Lance tried to coax him to open his heart and talk. _It must've been laced with something..._

"Well, Lance, you want to know what I feel? I..." Damn, this was hard. Pietro hesitantly swallowed his pride, and decided to do the unmanly thing known as "sharing one's feelings". "I thought you were cute when I first saw you. Then I thought you were a jerk. Then I thought you were a sexy jerk." His eyes glinted with mischief as sexy Lance thoughts came exploding back into his mind. 

"How long have you... uh... known--" 

"That I like guys?" 

"Yeah." 

"I dunno," Pietro shrugged. "I was still in junior high when I fully realized it. Didn't come to terms with it until my freshman year and I'm still in the closet. Er... sorta." 

"Sorta?" 

"Well, I did kind of have a boyfriend before," he mumbled, looking down at the carpet. "He was on the basketball team with me. A real heartbreaker, that one. Told me one day that he didn't think he liked me anymore, that he was just confused about his sexuality. He got a girlfriend a few days later." 

"Oh." 

"You still like girls, don't you?" 

Lance thought for a moment. "I still think Rogue and Kitty are hot, not to mention about a million other chicks. I mean, I don't know whether I'm attracted to guys in general or just _you_. But, I know for a fact that I have some feelings for you, and I wouldn't just decide to like girls more than you one day or anything like that. It's gonna take me a while to get used to this stuff, though..." 

"I know. You're doing an okay job at being 'used to it' so far. Better than I did." Pietro fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. "I already know my answer to the 'us' question, but I'm not telling until you firmly make up your mind about what you want." 

One second, he was staring up at the blank ceiling. The next, Lance was over him, close enough for his comfort. Forget posters and paint, he wanted to wake up every morning looking at Lance. _Mmm..._

"I know exactly what I want," he breathed, bringing his face closer to Pietro's. "You," he whispered into the other boy's ear. 

_Meep! Happy meep! WantedMeLikiesLanceMeWithLanceWoohoo!_

"That's good," he squeaked, flushing. _I just sounded like a ferret on crack. Real attractive, Pietro._ "B-because I want y-you, too." _What's worse? Sounding like a ferret, or stuttering like a moron?_ Hmm, a challenge that Pietro couldn't bring himself to answer because his lips were very soon trapped in a careful kiss. 

He wrapped his arms around Lance's shoulders and kissed him back. His day was definately looking up. 

A/N: Yay! The terror of Chapter 2 is over! I love Marilyn Manson... just not when I'm writing a story because his music tends to angstify it. -_-;; Anywho, this is the reason why I didn't set the Slushie series up as humor in the first place. That, and I have no idea what the mood of any chapter past 3 will be... ^_^;; 


	3. I'm JACK, the Pumpkin King!

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own this characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. ^_^ 

A/N: Once again, I thank the people who've sent me reviews! ^^ And I thank my beta reader who has never seen X-Men: Evolution, but reads my fic anyway. :P Of course, since she doesn't watch Evo, I get no opinions of whether the boys are in character or not. Oh well. This chapter took a while to write because I had MAJOR writer's block and wanted to finish the chapter as soon as possible (which is why the ending's a little rushed and the video store scene's lame). Anyway, Chapters 3, 4, and 5 are all buildups for... PLOT! Yes! I'm bringing in one "new" character in 5 and then another later. No, they aren't original characters (yay!).   
  
This chapter may seem pretty pointless, since it's true purpose is to finish off chapter 2 and nothing more. Also, I started it from mostly Blob's POV and a little bit of Todd's, because I love all the Brotherhood members and felt like giving them some screen time. And now I'm babbling, so I shut up now. :D 

**Chapter 3: I'm JACK, the Pumpkin King!**

Fred J. Dukes was never the most observant person in the world. However, even he noticed a change in Lance's behavior when the seismically-adept mutant came into the kitchen to fix lunch. He was... whistling? And was that a slight bounce in his step Fred just saw? 

And... oh, dead lord, Lance was _smiling_! Not scowling, not smirking with malice, but grinning stupidly. 

"Hey, there, Freddy! Nice day, isn't it?" Lance asked pleasantly as he opened the fridge and stuck his head in. "It's so bright and happy and shiny." 

"Shiny?" 

"Would you like a sandwich?" 

"What?" 

Lance pulled the necessary ingredients out of the refrigerator and set them down on the counter before shutting the fridge. "Turkey? Ham? Do you like mayo?" 

"Uh..." Fred was at a loss for words. He nodded, a strange look frozen on his face. 

"How many do you want?" Lance inquired, pulling a few plates out of the cabinet. 

"I-- uh-- well-- one," Fred said, fumbling with his words. Seeing Lance act so... nice and generous made him lose his appetite. Quite a feat, Lance. Congratulations. 

"Forget it," Lance amended, putting the sandwich material back into the refrigerator. "I'll order pizza instead. What kind do you want?" he asked as he picked up the phone. 

Freddy had had enough of this, and backed slowly out of the kitchen, saying: "Oh, any topping's okay." 

Lance looked at him curiously, wondering if something was wrong. "Okay." 

Disturbed, Freddy made his way to the living room, where Todd was attempting to watch the television. Beside him, Pietro sat, speaking animatedly about something. Todd seemed a little irked by this, and attempted to keep his attention directed at the movie that was playing on the TV. 

"Look at that! That's so lame!" Pietro exclaimed, pointing at whatever scene had just occurred on the screen. "This movie sucks! The plot's moving way too slow!" 

"Then I'll change the channel," Todd said through gritted teeth, reaching for the remote. 

"Yeah, change the channel. No. No, wait! Look at the that! They're kissing! That's so romantic. Isn't that romantic?" He didn't wait for Todd to reply and continued wistfully. "I love romance..." 

"Uh... yeah... me too," Todd responded slowly, staring at Pietro with widened eyes. His hand crept slowly and sneakily over to the remote, but was quickly slapped. 

"Touch that and die," Pietro threatened calmly, his eyes locked on the TV. 

Todd eeped silently. He looked to Fred for help, but the Blob, too, was frightened by Pietro's equally-as-strange-as-Lance behavior. Hoping that the psychotic speedster wouldn't notice him, he lumbered up the stairs as quietly as possible. 

Rogue's door was open. That was rare. Freddy peeked in cautiously. 

"Um, hey there," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

"What do _you_ want?" 

"I dunno. Everyone's acting so weird down there, I just figured I'd come up here." 

"_And_?" came Rogue's impatient reply. 

"And your door was open." 

"Ah'll be sure to close it next time," she snapped, slamming the door in his face. He found himself face-to-face with a "Keep Out" sign. Well, that was pleasant. 

He heard a _smack!_ from downstairs, and then Pietro's voice saying: "I warned you." 

"Aw, come on!" was Todd's whiny reply. "This is so boring and mushy!" 

"No, it's not! It's romantic and wonderful and beautiful! You just don't know good cinema!" 

"This is crap!" 

"Why you--" Pietro growled, then stopped. "Hi, Lance!" His voice sounded brighter, happier, and scarier. 

When you're living in a house with four other mutant teens, things are never normal. Fred knew this. But, what do you do when your version of normal just became horribly abnormal? Fred pondered upon this as he made his way to his room. 

* * * * * 

"Hi, Lance!" 

"What's going on here?" 

"He just went berserk over this dumb movie!" Todd said insistently. 

"Eh?" Lance... "eh"-ed (A/N: find a synonym). "Okay. I was gonna go pick up a movie for tonight, but if you really wanna watch that--" 

"I'll go with you," Pietro piped up, abruptly getting up to stand by Lance's side. He smiled proudly. 

Todd stared at the two warily. Seeing Pietro beam like that scared the hell out of him. "Yeah, you do that." 

Lance pulled out his wallet, grabbed some bills, and handed them to Todd, who eyed him warily before snatching the money. Before he could pocket it, Lance said: "For the pizza man, in case he arrives before we get back. And be sure to tip him generously." 

The suspicion on Todd's face was quite apparent as he said, "What's with you guys today? Something's definitely up. We _never_ tip the pizza man." 

Pietro looked at Lance, then at Todd, then laughed. "You keep thinking that, Todd." 

"I... uh... will then!" he retorted. 

Lance shrugged. "Think what you want." He turned to Pietro and said, "Come on." 

As the two walked out of the house, Todd could see them exchange smiles. Oh yes, there was definitely something up, and Todd Tolensky was going to get to the bottom of it. 

* * * * * 

"I haven't seen a good movie in ages," Pietro remarked as he strolled between aisles of tapes. 

"Anything in particular you want to watch?" Lance asked, eyeing the movies as he walked by. 

"Yeah. Something I haven't seen since I was in elementary school..." 

"What is it?" 

Pietro turned to Lance and smiled. "You'll see. Go find something you want to rent." 

Lance shrugged and went in search of the horror movie section. Hell, watching movies at home with Pietro would be, in a way, their first date, and Lance wanted to pick a very special movie. He stopped in front of the horror movies and looked over the many boxes. 

Too many choices. Damn it! Lance hated to choose between his old favorites. Was Jason more important than Freddy Kreuger? Was the creepy clown-thing known as IT any better than Dracula? And what about "House on Haunted Hill" versus "The Haunting"? 

Lance looked from one box to the other. And then another and another. He couldn't choose. All of the movies were special to him. Sighing in defeat, he started away from the Horror section, and it was then that he bumped into _it_, gleaming at him from the Drama section. 

"Fight Club". 

Lance reminded himself not to drool as he rushed over and snatched it. Yes, "Fight Club" definitely beat all of the horror movies he had such a hard time choosing between. Pietro would love it, and if he didn't, well, he would be stuck watching it anyway. Ha. 

He glanced around for Pietro and wondered if he had found his tape yet. A frightening (yet strangely adorable) squeal of happiness from elsewhere in the store indicated a "yes". The ferret returns. 

Lance walked out of the section designated to "Drama", and made his way to the counter to wait for Pietro, who was there shortly after, his hands clasping something behind his back. 

"What'd you get?" 

"Erm... nothing. I mean something, but I'll pay for it." 

"You don't have a Blockbuster card. I do, so give it here." 

"Fine, but don't laugh," Pietro grumbled, grudgingly handing the box over to Lance, who looked at the name on the box. 

"'The Nightmare Before Christmas'?" Lance questioned, stifling a rather unmanly giggle. 

"Hey! Don't laugh! It's a childhood fave of mine." 

"I see... You have strange tastes." 

"Yes. You're a perfect example of that. Besides, haven't you ever _seen_ it?" 

"No, I tend to avoid dancing clay skeletons." 

"Jack doesn't dance... much... I don't think so, anyway, it's been a--" 

"All right, all right. I won't mock your movie if you promise to watch mine with me." 

Pietro shrugged in agreement to the compromise. "What is it?" 

"Observe it in all of its beauty!" Lance thrust it in Pietro's face, causing the teen to back away a bit in fear of getting hit in the face by the box. "'Fight Club'!" 

"A little excited, are we?" Pietro asked, arching an eyebrow. 

"Hey, at least I didn't squeal when I found it." 

"I didn't squeal!" 

"Okay, you shrieked with all the excitement of a preteen girl who just saw the Backstreet Boys." 

Pietro suppressed a shudder. "Just get the tapes checked out, Lance." 

"Sure thing," Lance said, setting the movies on the counter. The Blockbuster employee stared at him with a funny look on her face. Apparently, she had heard the strange little conversation. 

"What?" Lance asked defensively as he pulled out his wallet and handed her is card. 

"Er, nothing. Is this all?" 

"Yeah." 

She grabbed the tapes and performed the usual procedure of checking them out. "That'll be seven dollars." Lance gave her the necessary amount of money. "These are due in five days. Thank you," she said almost mechanically, handing the tapes over to Lance, who took the videos and started for the exit. 

He then stopped without warning, causing Pietro to bump into him. 

"What is it?" Pietro questioned curiously after getting a faceful of Lance's back. 

"Parking lot," Lance growled. 

"Yes. Where your car is parked. What's the problem?" 

"_Them_," Lance simply said. _Are the X-Geeks following us?! I still haven't even come up with a rock pun for them yet. Damn it!_ Just when his day was all perked up, the X-"Men" (and Lance used that term very lightly) had to show up. Again. 

"Huh? Oh, forget them," Pietro said dismissively, once he noticed that Evan wasn't with them. "It's only Summers, Blue Boy, and that little valley girl. Let's go." 

"Look at them, so stupid and happy and stupid. Who the hell rents movies on a Sunday, anyway?!" 

"Us, apparently. Let's go," Pietro urged, grabbing Lance's arm. _Wow, he feels tense. Maybe I should give him a massage later. Mmm... gah! No, not now. Think of that later when we're in the confines of our own home and allll alone._

"But, I promised myself I'd do something bad to them!" 

"The video girl is staring at us again. Let's. Go," Pietro said through clenched teeth. "We'll get them at school or something." He practically had to forcibly pull Lance through the exit. "Just play nice for now." 

"Do I _have_ to?" Lance whined. 

Pietro was about to say something, when he quickly released his hold on Lance's arm. "Hi, guys," he said, forcing a smile. 

Xavier's kiddies almost visibly recoiled at his uncharacteristic kindness. 

"Wow, like, you were right when you said they were acting freaky, Kurt," Kitty commented. Lance scowled at the bunch, though it seemed to lighten a tiny bit as his eyes passed over her. 

_Grr. Hiss. Lance better not being looking at her._ Pietro quickly reprimanded himself for having slight feelings of jealousy towards her. _How could he have had a crush on _her_?!_

"Look, don't try to start anything," Summers said coldly. 

"Must you always assume that we're up to no good?" Pietro asked, his voice dripping with a disgusting amount of sweetness. "We were just about to leave. _Right_, Lance?" 

"Oh, yeah. Right." Glare. Scowl. Lance looked so cute when he was mad. 

"Good," from Summers. 

The three walked past Pietro and Lance, and it seemed that they had just avoided their second fight of the day. Pietro sighed in relief. Crisis averted. 

Suddenly, however, craziness ensued as the ground began to tremble just enough to knock the three X-Men off their feet. They toppled over each other in a mass of angry curses and limbs. 

"You idiot," Pietro hissed, promptly kicking Lance in the shin. 

"_Ow!_ Fuck! You kick hard!" Lance howled with pain. He hopped about on one foot, and the quaking was abruptly cut short. 

"Vhat vas that for?" Kurt groaned, rubbing his head. 

"Oh my God! Get off!" 

"Huh?" He looked down, saw Kitty pinned under his weight, and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Kitty," he apologized, rolling off of her (and feeling very pleased with himself). 

Meanwhile, Scott fumbled around, eyes closed, searching for his sunglasses. _I am so gonna get them. Vengeance. Grr. Gonna get them. Kill. Destroy,_ were the thoughts running through Scott's head. Needless to say, his thoughts were very un-X-Men like. 

"We should probably leave now..." 

"Yup," Lance nodded. 

Pietro grabbed Lance's arm and ran to the car at a pace that Lance could handle. At the same time, Kurt had retrieved Scott's sunglasses for him, and the very peeved X-Men leader found it safe to open his eyes once more. 

"Hey! Get back here!" he shouted at them, knowing full well that they wouldn't. Their response was Lance's crummy car screeching away from the Blockbuster video store. 

"Like, what a bunch of jerks!" Kitty seethed. 

"Vhat's their problem?" 

"I don't know," Scott said, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the spot where Lance was once standing. "But I'll bet Mystique has _something_ to do with this. We'd better not let our guard down again. Who knows what their plan is..." 

* * * * * 

"IdiotIdiot_Idiot_!" 

*smack!* 

"Hey! Watch it, I'm trying to drive!" 

Pietro huffed angrily and slouched back in his seat, arms crossed. 

"What's wrong with you?! Normally, you'd jump at the chance to fight those dorks!" 

"What's wrong with _me_? Mystique is very adamant about us not using our powers in public, and you just _had_ to shake things up in that parking lot!" 

"That's not what's bugging you," Lance pointed out. 

"No, it's not what's bugging me," Pietro admitted. "And why do you have that weird helmet-thing?!" 

"Huh?" 

"Well, I used to think that if you didn't wear that helmet-thing while using your powers, your head would explode or something. But you can obviously create your little earthquakes without it, so why do you wear it?" 

"I... don't know," Lance said after thinking for a moment. Maybe it was there to protect his head from falling rocks. _But if it's glass and it totally shatters, that'll hurt worse than rocks, wouldn't it? Is it even glass? I don't even know what my own helmet... thing is made of!_ Silence followed, then Lance shook his head angrily. "Wait! You were changing the subject!" 

"Yes, I was. Aren't I good at that?" 

"Whatever. Why'd you get so pissed off?" 

"I just... I don't know, I didn't want anything to spoil the day," Pietro said with a shrug. "I wanted to fight, sure, but not there and not today. Personally, I'd rather fight them at school so that if something _does_ happen, we only have to deal with Mystique and not the police. We got the upper hand that way." 

"Oh, yeah." More silence. "I think you bruised my shin." 

"Good." Pietro cracked a small smile. "You deserved it." 

"You know what?" 

"What?" 

"You're cool." In Lance speak, that was the equivalent of saying: "I like you a lot!" Or, if you want to extend it to its full meaning, it's: "I like you a lot! You're hot and I want to sleep with you. I hope I can sleep with you. I really like you. This is my way of saying that I like you." 

Pietro blinked. "Thanks... I think." He couldn't think of anything more to say, so he simply returned the compliment. "You're... cool, too, even if you are a big doofus sometimes." 

The car pulled into the driveway, and Lance leaned in close to Pietro until their faces inches apart. "At least I'm _your_ big doofus," he said, smiling broadly. "Yours to hug, to cuddle, to kiss--" 

"Kissing sounds nice," Pietro whispered in his ear, tracing his tongue along Lance's earlobe. 

Lance was expecting an all-out kiss, tongue and everything. Instead, he got a peck on the nose. "Huh?" 

"Don't want the pizza man to see us making out, do you?" 

"What?" 

"Check the rear-view mirror." 

Lance did and saw the Dominos car parked at the curb, the pizza man struggling with the rather large order. "Damn him! Now I really don't want to give him the tip," Lance said, sulking. 

"We should probably help him." Pietro was already out of the car after saying this, and Lance followed, tapes and keys in hand. 

* * * * * 

"Todd! Money!" Lance commanded as he set the last of the pizza boxes on the kitchen table. 

"Geez, Lance, where'd you get all this money?" Todd asked as he grudgingly handed the cash to the exhausted delivery boy. "Here you go." He then shut the door in the boy's face. 

"Duncan Matthews' wallet." 

"A fine source of income," Pietro smirked. 

"Freddy! Rogue! Dinner's here!" 

"It's not quite dinnertime yet," Todd observed, looking at his watch. "It's only 4:30." 

"_Only?!_ Man, this _has_ been a long day," Lance muttered, sitting down at the table. 

"What'd ya rent?" Todd picked up the two tape boxes and read the titles, then blinked. "'Fight Club' and... what the hell?" 

"Don't mock the movie," Pietro said, prepared to defend his childhood favorite. 

"I love this movie!" 

There was a collective "Huh?" from Pietro, Lance, and Freddy and Rogue, who had just walked into the kitchen. 

"But we still have to watch 'Fight Club'!" Lance reminded. "We're going to watch it no matter what!" 

Freddy grabbed four boxes of pizza and strolled into the living room. "Fine by me. I got dinner to last a little while." 

Rogue set a few slices of pizza on her plate and promptly went back upstairs. This didn't surprise anyone, considering how the girl was becoming more and more elusive lately. Ever since she had the fuzzy kid zapped into the other realm (or whatever happened), she'd been even more unfriendly and evasive toward her teammates, assuming that was possible. 

"She's so friendly," Pietro observed as he grabbed his own dinner with slight disgust directed at the greasy meal. 

Lance shrugged. _Oh well, one's gone, two to go, then I'll be all alone with Pietro. Hehe._ "It's a shame. And stuff. Yeah." 

Todd and Pietro looked at him funny, then nodded with some baffled agreement. 

"Let's just start the movie," Todd said. The sooner the movie started, the sooner Lance would shut up and stop acting creepy. 

* * * * * 

They were finished with "The Nightmare Before Christmas" and were about forty-five minutes into "Fight Club" when Todd excused himself. Claiming he had homework and other things to do, he went to his room. Fred had already left five minutes into the movie because he found it dull and couldn't understand it. This meant that Pietro and Lance were alone. 

Lance grinned wolfishly. Excellent (he could almost hear the voice of Mr. Burns in his head). Once he was absolutely positive that his semi-amphibian friend had left, he leaned closer to Pietro and put an arm around the slender mutant's shoulder. 

"Hello, there," Pietro murmured, leaning back into Lance. "I like Brad Pitt's pants." 

"Why?" 

"Look at the way they fit on him, hugging those sexy hips." He tilted his head and looked at Lance with an impish grin. "Do your pants do that?" 

"Would you like to find out?" 

"Yes-- wow!" His attention was drawn away from Lance and back to the movie as something more interesting than Lance's pants occurred on screen. 

_Curse Brad Pitt and his pants!_ Lance yearned for the attention that Brad Pitt had stolen from him, and tried to think of some way to get it back. _I could always stop the movie, but then Pietro would beat me to death with the remote control. Damn... Well, I could just take my shirt off and jump in front of the TV in hopes that my pants do the same thing as Pitt's._

To Lance, that sounded like a good plan, until he realized that his pants were too baggy to do the hip-hugging thing. _What to do? What to do... Ahh..._

He cupped Pietro's chin and tilted his face up. "Hey, this is a good sce--" Pietro started to protest, but it was all for naught as Lance captures his lips with a kiss. _No pizza man to get in our way this time_, thought Lance with triumph. He pulled away, licked his lips, and smiled. 

"Does the rest of you taste this good?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know," Pietro returned with a smirk. 

Lance lowered his head and licked the crook of Pietro's neck. "That's nice," he noted before proceeding to suck on the soft skin of the slender boy's throat. 

"Mmm," Pietro moaned, tangling his long fingers in Lance's hair and pulling him closer. The movie blared on in the background, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh (and, consequently, flesh hitting concrete) masking the noise coming from Pietro and Lance. 

Meanwhile, Todd was horror-stricken as he watched on from the staircase. Well, he had told himself that he would get to the bottom of the problem, but he never really thought that the two had the hots for each other. Of course, it did explain Lance's strange behavior and Pietro's... being himself. 

Still, Todd couldn't help but be shocked and confused. Should he tell them to stop? Leave them alone? Tell the others about the affair? Todd silently crept back upstairs and left the two teens to their groping and their kisses. 

A/N: Hehehe. I don't know if this chapter's good or not, but I had fun writing the X-Men in the parking lot scene. Plus, I got to make references to my two favorite movies! :D Anyway, I got a comment from my beta reader (Morwin Weird ^^;) saying that Lance is a lot like Dee from "Fake". I find this amusing. Hehe. That and now I see how there are some parallels between Lance/Pietro and Ron/Draco. ^_^ This makes me want to write Ron/Draco slash, but alas, I must finish my insane Snape story first... 

Oh yeah, and Chapter 4 is already done and should be up in a day or two. 


	4. Coffffffeeeeee...

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own these characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. ^_^ (I'm not even gonna bother changing this anymore :D) 

A/N: Once again, I thank the people who've sent me reviews! ^^ And I thank my beta reader who has never seen X-Men: Evolution, but reads my fic anyway. :P Of course, since she doesn't watch Evo, I get no opinions of whether the boys are in character or not. (I am far too lazy to rephrase this paragraph...) 

Anywho, this chapter takes place during "Survival of the Fittest", but since I'm just trying to get past "Shadowed Past" with my timeline, this chapter skips around a lot. Oh well, that's the problem when you start a fic that takes place after an early ep and then has to skip to one of the later ones... 

Also, there is a part in this chapter which is my little way of trying to blend Evo with "canon" X-Men (as in, I make a reference to comic Avalanche, aka Dominic Petros). This is basically another filler chapter, by the way. Chapter 5 is when I'm bringing in a very special character, and it's when Lance and Pietro finally have sex (but I'm not gonna write the sex scene because I'm an evil bitch. Mwahahaaaa!) 

**Chapter 4: Coffffffeeeeee...**

It was another morning. Lance groggily made his way to the kitchen and absently began to make coffee. How long had it been since Rogue had left them? Almost three weeks. 

Of course, a small part of him had seen it coming. It was so obvious sometimes, what with the way she watched Summers and his friends with such yearning. Though unsurprised, he was still enraged by the turn of events. 

Those little brats didn't have to work for their mansion, did they? It was just given to them by their generous, shiny-headed benefactor. Did any of them ever have to experience being dirt-poor and parentless? He doubted it. Those kiddies got anything they wanted, and now they took one of his teammates. 

It didn't matter that he was never on very good terms with Rogue. It mattered that she was one of them, one of the Brotherhood, and yet she found it so easy to just ditch her team and live the easy life without ever looking back. 

_Why should I still care?_ he thought with a frown as he pushed his hair away from his face. _She never really did anything for us, and it's been three fucking weeks, Lance. Get over it._

"C'mon, coffee," he mumbled sleepily, a slave to the brewing beverage. _Stupid Pietro. Just because he has super speed he gets to sleep in later than the rest of us. I wish I had super speed. If I did, then I wouldn't have to think of rock puns and wear a stupid bowl on my head._

He tried to envision himself in Pietro's Quicksilver costume and shivered. _Nevermind. That's the kind of getup that only looks good on one person._

He slumped against the counter in dire need of caffeine and wished it wasn't a school day. He would much rather stay at home and try to coax Pietro into his bed. Three weeks... Three weeks and he still didn't get much farther than kissing and groping. To put it bluntly, Lance wanted sex, and he desired it desperately. 

Currently, however, his strongest desire was to have a nice, hot cup of coffee. Yummy. 

As Lance fantasized about both coffee and sex, Todd came hopping down the stairs with a sleepy Fred behind him. 

"What's for breakfast, Lance?" asked Freddy with some anticipation. 

"Coffee. Sex 'n coffee. Mmm. Tired." 

"We're having sex for breakfast?" Somehow, Fred didn't think that would be very filling. Plus, who was there to have sex with? Todd? 

"What?" Lance looked up from the coffee as a perplexed expression settled on his face. "Did I say 'sex'?" 

"Yes," answered Todd wearily. 

"I meant to say..." Lance tried to think of something quickly. "Chex! We're having Chex! Grab a bowl!" 

The two reluctantly complied, and Lance sighed with relief. He pulled some Chex cereal out of the pantry and set the box down on the kitchen table. "Eat up. Ooh! Coffee's ready!" He gleefully poured himself a cup of coffee and threw in the sugar and cream. With his entire day's energy crammed into one mug, he began to drink greedily, burned his tongue, and set the cup on the counter with annoyance. 

"I hate it when I do that," he muttered, waiting for the beverage to cool. 

* * * * * 

Shortly before they left, Pietro woke up and performed his usual two minute morning routine (he was still a little slow in the morning). Then, they went to school, prepared for a nice blow-off Friday. What they got, instead, was an order from Principal Darkholme to come to her office around the end of the last period of the day. 

"What do you want us to do this time?" Lance asked impatiently upon entering her office. Pietro and Todd were already there, and he figured it'd be a short while before Freddy came. 

"I want you boys to go camping." 

"Huh?" from Lance, Pietro, and Todd. 

"Camp Ironback. There's a small survival retreat being held there this weekend. I already made plans for your arrival." 

"What? Why?!" Lance protested hotly. Mystique shot him a glare that quickly shut him up. 

"I expect you to be here bright and early tomorrow to meet the bus. It'll be leaving at 7 AM. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to." 

The three took their leave and bumped into Freddy, who was gasping and wheezing like he had just run a marathon. 

"Had to run from... other end... of... school," he panted. 

"Well, you just missed the meeting. I'll fill you in," Lance said in a surly tone as he walked down the hall with his hands shoved into his pockets. _There goes my plan of getting some over the weekend,_ he thought sullenly. 

"Hey, this might actually be fun," Pietro said, trying to lighten Todd and Lance's low spirits. "We get to test our strength in the wilderness and... yeah..." he trailed off as he was met with glares. 

"What do we have to do?" asked Fred, catching his breath. 

"Survival training camp, or something like that. We have to be back at school tomorrow morning at seven," explained Lance. 

"But tomorrow's Saturday!" Fred whined in protest. 

"It's not like _you_ have any plans, Blob," Pietro retorted. "Besides, I'm sure this thing'll be a cakewalk. How hard could it be?" 

The bell to end school rang as they reached the exit (or entrance, depending on the destination). Lance kicked the door open and started on his way to his car with utter bitterness directed towards Mystique. _I'll bet she knew I was planning on getting Pietro in bed this weekend! Bitch! She probably arranged this just to torture me. Yeah... that's it... I'll get her for this! _

Lance was filled up with tons of sexual tension, and it happened to make him a very vindictive, moody person. It also made him a little forgetful to the world around him, but he didn't realize this until he was nearly home and lacking company. 

"Uh oh," he said upon realizing that he had left his friends behind. _You know what? Screw them! They can get home their own way._ He pulled into the driveway and nearly hit Pietro, who was suddenly standing there with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. Ah. It was his angry pose. 

"What's with the attitude, Lance?" 

Lance sighed and rested his head against the steering wheel. When a loud honk blared from the car's horn, he jolted up quickly and glared. "Stupid horn! Why do cars have these?!" 

"To prevent accidents, I suppose." Pietro shrugged. "Why're you asking? You're the one with the license, not me." He walked around to the driver's side of the car and peered at Lance. "So, what's up?" 

"I just don't wanna go to that stupid thing tomorrow." 

"You're such a spaz," he commented with a smile, "but at least you're cute." He leaned forward and kissed Lance on the forehead playfully. Strong hands grabbed his arms and he tried to jerk back. "Hey!" 

"Is that all we're ever gonna do?" Lance asked with a frown. "We can't go out together because people'll see us. All we do is stay at home and make out with a movie in the background." 

"It beats being lynched, doesn't it?" Pietro snapped, pulling out of Lance's grasp. "Is that what's bothering you? Not being able to go out?" 

"Not really. I can deal with that, but-- Ah, fuck it, Pietro. Forget I said anything." 

"What the hell do you want?!" 

"_Nothing!_ Just go away!" Lance exploded irritably. 

"Fine," Pietro said coldly and was gone before Lance could say anything else. 

Lance yanked the keys out of the ignition and leaned back in his seat. _Why, oh why, am I such an idiot?_ he asked himself as he closed his eyes. _Then again, what could I have told him? "I want sex, that's what I want!" Three weeks and our stupid relationship has made zero progress._

It wasn't even just about the sex, though Lance considered it to be a large factor. Other things irked him as well. He knew close to nil about Pietro's past, and Pietro probably knew even less about Lance's. They didn't do a lot of talking, either-- well, talking that meant anything, anyway. And then there was the no-sex thing. And, even though Lance wouldn't admit it, Pietro was right about them not ever going anywhere. 

_And now I just fucked things up. Smart move, Lance._

He looked at his watch. Yup. There was still enough time to sort things out with Pietro before the other two got home. Lance got out of the car and prayed that an ice-cream truck would just happen to pass by Fred and Toad on their way home. 

_That would give me an extra hour..._

Lance walked into the house and went up the stairs. Pietro's door was closed and Lance had a horrible feeling of _deja vu_. 

"Hey, Pietro? I'm... uh, sorry I snapped I at you," he said, swallowing his pride. 

The door opened and Pietro poked his head out. "You're a moron," he said simply, then slammed the door in Lance's face. 

"Oh, come on!" 

"What for? What do you want, Lance?" 

Desperate times call for desperate measures. "My name's not really Lance, you know." 

"Huh?" The door opened again and Pietro stared at him suspiciously. "Mystique?" 

"No, you idiot! See, what was bugging me was the fact that we've been together for a while, but we don't know much about each other." 

"And this has what to do with your name?" 

"Not much. It's just a little thing, really. I know I was acting stupid and stuff, but--" 

"You want sex, don't you?" 

Lance blinked. "Yeah," he admitted a little reluctantly. He wondered where this was going (hopefully, it would go straight to Pietro's bed). 

"And your name's not Lance." 

"Well, not by birth, but--" 

"Then what is it?" Pietro asked with a sly grin. 

Lance scowled and sighed. The things he did for love. _Love?! Gahhh..._ "Well, I've always been known as Lance Alvers, since that was what my foster family called me, but I found out my birth name a few years ago." 

"Which is...?" That sly grin widened. 

"Dominic Petros," Lance muttered resentfully. _If that's not a good peace offering, I don't know what is._ "But if you ever, _ever_ call me that, I'll kill you." 

"You'd have to catch me, first, _Dominic_." 

_Grr._ Lance opened the door fully and burst into the room. "I warned you," he said with a smirk as he wrapped his arms around Pietro's waist and pulled him closer. "You let me catch you." 

"I'm glad you noticed." 

"And what should I do with you?" he whispered in Pietro's ear. This time, it was his turn to grin. 

"What do you want to do?" Pietro returned. Hands reached for the fly of his pants, and he slapped them away. "Sorry, not that yet." 

"Aww." 

"Hey, I want to be able to walk tomorrow." He rested his head on Lance's chest and added, "Don't worry about the sex, Lance. You'll get it when you least expect it." 

"Eh?" Lance wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. _What if he does it super quick by surprise and- Aaah!!_

"By the way, do you know where the other two are?" 

"I have no idea." 

* * * * * 

Fred's cry of "_What?!_" reverberated across town as Todd finally confined some news to him. 

"Look, don't tell 'em that I told you. They don't even know that I know." 

Fred was at a loss for words, so he simply sputtered dumbly. 

"Seriously, man, don't let them know that you know. Don't tell anyone, okay?" 

"Why'd you tell me this now, if it's been going on for weeks?" 

Todd shrugged as they walked. "I was wondering how serious they were at first. I figured no one needed to know if it was one of those temporary things. But it looks like they're gonna be together for a while, so I guess you had a right to know what was going on in our house." 

"How can Lance be gay?" 

Todd shrugged again. "Because, uh, he is? I don't know, maybe he's bi! Just pretend that you don't know anything. Shouldn't be too hard in your case... And if they decide to come, uh... 'out of the closet', act surprised. Okay?" 

"Okay," Freddy said slowly, scratching his head. 

* * * * * 

"Mmm-- mmph!" Pietro broke the kiss and looked at the door. "Someone's home." 

"Damn it," Lance cursed. _So much for the ice cream man._ "Fix your hair." 

Pietro smoothed out his hair and looked to Lance. "You probably should get out of my room before they come upstairs," he said, then added with a smirk, "Dominic." 

"Hey, let's keep the 'Dominic' thing between you and me. I don't want it to spread." 

"No problem. Now shoo!" he said, pushing Lance out of his bedroom. 

"We're gonna have to tell them sometime, you know," Lance mentioned as he was being forced into his own room. 

"I know, but not right now. See ya!" And Pietro was gone-- probably downstairs to greet Todd and Fred in the most normal way possible. Of course, Pietro's version of normal usually ended up being frightening. 

"Hi, guys!" 

Lance could almost see the other two cringe at the horrific chipperness of Pietro's voice. "Hi..." they replied hesitantly. 

"Need any help packing for the weekend?" 

"No! No, I mean... no," they said a little quickly. 

"'kay, suit yourself." And back upstairs. "They don't suspect a thing," he said to Lance with a proud smile before going to his own room and doing... whatever the hell it was that he did in his free time. A few seconds later, he burst out from his room and informed Lance that he was going to the park to work off some of his energy. 

_Ha. Looks like I'm not the only one with sexual tension,_ Lance thought victoriously as he grabbed a duffel bag from his closet. Even though his plans were ruined by Mystique, he didn't mind as much anymore. After all, he was gonna get some eventually. It was all a matter of patience, and Lance knew that he had more than Pietro. He was gonna get some. Oh yes. 

* * * * * 

"What a fine mess we're in," Lance muttered as he tossed a pebble angrily. He turned and pointed an accusatory finger in Todd's face. "This is all you're fault!" 

"Hey, Pietro was the one who encouraged it!" Todd exclaimed in his own defense. 

"But you suggested it," Pietro pointed out. He leaned against the rocky wall and crossed his arms. "We've been here how long now? It feels like it's been hours." 

"Try ten minutes," Lance corrected. "This is so stupid." 

* * * * * 

Home at last. The first thing that Lance did upon returning was shed his clothes and take a nice long bath. He ignored Pietro's annoyed shouts coming from the hallway and leaned his head back against the tile as he felt his aching muscles relax. 

"C'mon! I can take a shower faster than you can blink! Pleeeeease? You're gonna take forever! I wanna get cleaned up now! Come on, Lance! PrettyPrettyPrettyPlease?" 

_How can I ignore such a cute voice?_

"Wait your turn, Pietro." 

There was some silence. Lance could tell that his simple answer irritated Pietro immensely. He smiled to himself and waited for a reply. 

"You suck!" 

And what a reply it was. Lance chuckled with amusement and assumed that Pietro had decided to give up on the shower for now. 

Lance reclined further in the bathtub and thought back on the day's events. 

To modify a phrase said by Pietro: It sucked. Big time. Not only was he cranky about waking up early on his day off, but he lost to Summers in a stupid little meaningless event, had to do pushups, and then got trapped in an abandoned mine. 

To top it all off, he had to team up with the X-Geeks, and he _liked_ it. He and Summers even got along for one brief moment. 

Was this the start of something beautiful? 

Lance pondered. 

Of course it wasn't. There was no way he was going to "pull a Rogue" and ditch his friends for the comforts of a mansion. If he was going to get to the top, he was gonna work or cheat to get there, not take the easy path of assimilation. 

Besides, Summers was still a dork in his opinion. Plus, Kurt was annoying; Kitty was a bitch (a turned down Lance is quite unforgiving); Rogue was a traitor; Daniels was Pietro's enemy and, therefore, Lance's; that redhead chick was the dullest human being on the face of the earth; and... their professor was bald. Yeah. That was reason enough not to join them. 

_I may be from the "wrong side of the tracks", but at least I'm content with who I am. Well, almost. Now, if only Pietro would take some initiative, then I'd be extremely content..._

Lance grinned and enjoyed his extra-long bath. To annoy Pietro, he took as long as possible. 

To annoy Lance, Pietro took his sweet time with his initiative. 

It would be a while before Lance finally got what he wanted. 

* * * * *

A/N: Okay, this chapter was horribly rushed. Usually, it takes me three to four days to write a chapter, but this one only took two. Ah well, it didn't have much of a point, anyway. Now chapter 5, on the other hand... Hehe. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to disregard the events of "The Cauldron" for the sake of this series (WAAAH!), or just hold it off for a while and then modify the events for the story. Heheheeee.... Alex was cute, but he had a dumb voice at times. And I thoroughly enjoyed every scene involving the Brotherhood! YAY! 

Anyway, Chapter 5 is almost done, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to post it. I'm going to actually work more on it than this chapter, so that it doesn't become a total failure. :D And now, I'm off to yoga! (I'm frightened...) 


	5. Initiative?

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own these characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. (I'm not even gonna bother changing this anymore :D) 

A/N: Once again, I thank the people who've sent me reviews! And I thank my beta reader who has never seen X-Men: Evolution, but reads my fic anyway. :P Of course, since she doesn't watch Evo, I get no opinions of whether the boys are in character or not. (I am far too lazy to ever again rephrase this paragraph...) 

Okay, this takes place after "Shadowed Past" and this is where my fics finally departs from the show. By the way, I probably butchered Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro's characters, but I am faaaar too lazy to care by this point. I'll actually give Pyro more characterization in the next chapter, and Magneto will hopefully jump into character later, but right now it doesn't matter. 

Oh, and I apologize to the people who wanted me to make this dirty and to the people who wanted me to keep this clean. You see, I kinda stuck this on the line between dirty and clean... It's sort of like this: It leads up to the inevitable, but you don't get to read about it because I simply didn't feel like writing a sex scene at the moment. However, the sequel to "Slushies" (as I already have the ending to this series and the beginning of the next planned) will probably have sex. I dunno. It all depends on what I feel like writing at the moment. (blah. I write too much in my notes) 

**Chapter 5: Initiative? (aka: Lance Finally Kind of But Not Really Gets Some!)**

Mystique had been pretty cranky lately. Not that Lance could blame her. After all, he and the rest of the Brotherhood _did_ show up to tear apart her little family reunion. 

Still, that was no excuse for her to give him two weeks of detention. She even did a half-assed job trying to come up with an excuse. Since when was his natural hair color offensive?! That got him one week, and his "insubordination" earned him another. 

Luckily, she didn't see him flip her off later; and, hopefully, she wouldn't assume that he was the one who had keyed her car. 

Lance put his physics book back into his locker and slammed the door shut with frustration. He wondered what other little tortures Mystique had planned for them. 

_She'll probably fling a bunch of menial tasks at us... Or she'll just send us on some suicide mission... Hmph. Two fuckin' weeks of detention!_

He briefly wondered what she would do to him if he skipped out on his punishment. He leaned back against his locker and waited for the halls to clear up. When that occurred, he waited for the tardy bell to ring. _Ha! I'll show her! I'll just refuse to go to my classes and... get into more trouble... and... yeah!_

His passive resistance movement was cut short when Pietro was suddenly standing next to him. 

Even though Lance was now used to Pietro's abrupt appearances, he was still a little annoyed. "Can't you just walk at a normal pace like everybody else?" 

Pietro stared at him as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, then shook his head. "Of course not." He moved closer to Lance and inquired in a prying voice: "Soooo... What are you doing?" 

"I'm going on strike. Mystique gave me two weeks of detention because she claimed that my _hair color_ is offensive!" 

"Poor baby," he grinned. "Todd's got the same problem and so does Fred. I wonder why she hasn't done anything to me yet." 

"You're just special," Lance muttered with a scowl. 

"Hey... I know something that'll cheer you up." 

"What?" 

Without warning, Lance was dragged into the bathroom by Pietro. He was led into a stall, and Pietro closed and locked the door behind them. 

"What are you do--?" For once, it was Lance's turn to be cut off by a lusty kiss. 

"Taking initiative," Pietro murmured as his lips parted from Lance's. One long-fingered hand traveled down Lance's chest and found its way up his shirt. 

"I-in school?!" Lance, as excited as he was, couldn't help but feel a little flustered. 

"Why not?" Pietro questioned as he pulled the fabric of Lance's shirt up. "No one's gonna catch us; they're all in class right now. It's just you--" He dropped down to his knees and traced the contours of Lance's flat stomach with eager lips, his fingers hooking onto the fabric of the older boy's pants. "--and me." Quick fingers snatched the fly of his pants and worked the zipper down. 

"I-i, uh... alluvium," Lance stammered dumbly. _Alluvium?! Why the hell did I say that?!_

Pietro gave him a funny look, then shrugged. He pulled Lance's jeans down and looked up at his boyfriend. "Want me to stop?" 

Lance shook his head, afraid that if he opened his mouth, more weird gibberish would emerge. Fingers toyed with him through the fabric of his boxers, and he could already heel his body react to the caresses. He ran his fingers through Pietro's hair, encouraging him to continue as his own soft moans filled the stall. 

"Shh," Pietro hissed, pulling Lance's boxers down. "Don't want people to hear us, do you?" 

"Easy for you to-- Ahh--" 

* * * * * 

Mystique prowled the halls in the form of a teenage boy, her fists and teeth clenched. Somebody had keyed her car, and she had a feeling that the delinquent was one of her "brood". She knew that it wasn't the Blob, as his style usually involved smashing things. So, she sent an order for the other three to report to her office. She was quite enraged when Todd was the only one to show up. The simpering little fool obviously couldn't have done it; there wasn't any slime or lingering smell around the car. 

That only left Lance and Pietro, the two who _didn't_ go to her office. After thinking it over, she came to the conclusion that it was probably Lance, since he had more of a reason to commit the act of vandalism than Pietro did. However, she secretly hoped that it was Pietro who did it, as it would finally give her an excuse to punish the brat. 

She growled to herself at the thought of him and his father. What she wanted most at the moment was to wring the little whelp's neck. After all, Magneto had taken her son away, so it would only be fair for her to return the favor. 

Unfortunately, things weren't always that easy. Magnus wanted her to play nice, and as long as she was under his employment, that was all she could do. 

She stopped by the boys' bathroom and stared at the door. Lance could be in there, since he'd apparently skipped his class... _He's probably in there smoking pot, or something..._

She opened the door and stepped inside to hear a rather familiar voice. Only the voice wasn't speaking, it was moaning quite pleasantly. 

"Mmm, Pietro--" 

_Oh, dear God._

Well, at least he wasn't smoking pot. 

Mystique took a silent, cautious step towards the stall. The sounds she heard pretty much confirmed her suspicion, so she merely stood there, her head filling with thoughts. 

_I wonder what Magnus would do if he found out about his son's "activities",_ she thought to herself as she exited the bathroom as quietly as possible. 

She rushed back to her office, locked the door, and returned to her true guise. She then turned away from the door and gave a startled jump. 

"Magnus!" _Oh yes, he's always there when you need him_, she thought dryly as she faced the Master of Magnetism. 

"Mystique. I came to inform you that a new recruit will be arriving shortly." 

"Recruit? Who--" 

"St. John Allerdyce of Sydney, Australia. Don't bother sending your boys to retrieve him; you just prepare for his arrival. I have already sent somebody to bring him over here." 

"What? Who?" 

"That doesn't concern you yet, Mystique. You'll find out in due time." 

"Of course," she spat venomously before morphing into her Principal Darkholme form. "Is there anything else you need?" 

"Yes. A question, actually." 

"What is it?" 

"What happened to your car?" 

* * * * * 

Lance emerged from the bathroom stall feeling dazed and wobbly. 

"That was niiiice," he purred, walking over to the sink, where he splashed his face with water. 

"I wish I brought a toothbrush to school," remarked Pietro as he went over to the sink beside Lance. He swished some water around in his mouth before spitting it out again. 

"You don't regret anything, do you?" 

"Only the fact that my mouth's gonna taste like you for the rest of the day," Pietro answered with a smirk. He wrapped his arms around Lance and nuzzled his face in the dark fabric of the other mutant's shirt. "And I regret having to go to class now. I'd rather stay here than go to PE." 

"Me too. But, I gotta get to US History before I get into any more trouble." 

"I thought that was your plan." 

"It was a bad plan." 

"Mm. Okay. See ya at lunch." Pietro gave him one last squeeze (_Ow! Organs... getting... crushed!_) and dashed off leaving Lance standing there, still a little dazed. 

* * * * * 

Pietro rushed into the gym, dressed out and ready to be yelled at by his teacher. 

"Maximoff!" the P.E. teacher barked. "Where were you? Principal Darkholme needs to see you." 

"Oh-- I, uh, already went to see her! Yeah, that's why I'm late." 

"So you have an admit?" 

"...yes," Pietro lied. 

"Can I see it?" he asked with strained patience. 

"Um, no, 'cause I... uh, that is... I dropped it on the way over here because I was in such a hurry to get to your wonderful class, sir." 

Apparently, the man wasn't in the mood to discipline Pietro for his tardiness, so he left it at that. "Okay. Go join the other students. We're having a free day." 

_Wah._ Free day meant having to hang out with the girls' class, too. Not that being around girls bothered him at all, it just meant that he would have to see Rogue and Kitty, as well as Summers, Wagner, and Daniels. Too many enemies in one place, and he could do nothing to torment them while in school. 

He joined Todd at the bleachers and sulked. One downside to being buddies with the local delinquents was the fact that most people avoided him and his friends like they had the Bubonic plague. It wouldn't have bothered him if he was a less social person, but going from being quite popular at his old school to an outcast at another school in a matter of days (due to a stupid transfer) was still a little depressing. 

_Oh, no, there's that no-good Pietro Maximoff! Don't talk to him because he has funny white hair and hangs out with those thugs Todd Tolensky, Lance Alvers, and Fred Dukes,_ he thought sarcastically as he watched the girls and boys interact. 

It wasn't fair. He was stuck with Todd, who was far too busy snatching the roaches that lived under the bleachers to notice him, when he could've been having fun with all of the happy little normal kids. _Or_, he added as his gaze traveled over to the X-Men, _normal seeming._

_Wagner's kinda cute_, he thought suddenly, then smacked himself on the forehead. _Wait! What am I thinking?! Eww, ew, ew, ew! Fur is __not_ sexy! 

He watched the goody-goodies play a game of basketball, cringing as he took notice of their appalling lack of skill. _God, they suck! I could easily whip all five of them! And this time, Lance won't be here to interrupt..._

Pietro's eyes followed the basketball as it rebounded off of the basket, soared towards him, then landed with a painful thud on Todd's head. 

"Ow!" he cried, falling face-first against the bleachers. Adding injury to injury, he bumped his head against one of the metal rails and groaned groggily. 

Pietro laughed and snatched the ball. "You okay, Todd?" 

"Unhh, uhhh..." 

"Hey, watch where you're throwing this thing!" he snapped as the geeks came to retrieve their ball. 

"Sorry, I was aiming for _your_ head," the Evan retorted sardonically. 

"Never could hit your target, could ya, Evan?" Pietro smirked, not relinquishing hold of the ball. 

"Just give us our ball back, Maximoff, we don't want any trouble," Summers said calmly. 

Pietro quirked an eyebrow at Summers' words. "You make it sound like this is a hostage situation. Besides, I wasn't looking for a fight. I also wasn't looking for this thing to bonk Todd on the head." 

"Look, ya albino jerk, just let us get on with our game, and you go on back to whatever the hell it is ya do." 

"Albino?!" Pietro repeated indignantly. "Eh, fine," he then muttered, shoving the ball into Summers' arms. "But, uh... could I play, too?" 

"What?" was the reply that he received from them, except for Wagner. In Wagner's case, it was more like a "Vhat?" 

"Well," Pietro said with a shrug, "if I played, you'd have an even number to divide into teams." _Plus, you guys are embarrassingly bad and I haven't been able to play a good game in a long time because stupid Mystique won't let me join the basketball team._

"Uh... sure," Summers reluctantly said. 

And so, they went off to act like normal, non-enemy, teens for the remainder of the period, leaving the dizzy Todd wobbling around the bleachers and flicking his tongue out at imaginary insects. 

* * * * * 

Lance had received yet another detention for his tardiness, but he didn't care. Nothing could ruin his day because he had had the most amazing experience while in the boys' bathroom. 

His thoughts were wandering all over the place as his teacher droned on and on about the Reconstruction. 

_What a day! I got eleven days of detention, keyed Mystique's car, and got a blow-- Oh no._

Lance glanced around, suddenly paranoid. He just remembered that he shared this class with none other than Jean Grey, the telepath. 

_What if she's probing my mind right now? What if she knows? What if she blabs it to everyone?_ Lance was suddenly feeling very panicky. _She'd probably tell Summers, then he'd tell the rest of the X-Geeks, then instead of fighting us in our next battle, they'll just laugh at us!_

Lance glared at the back of Jean's head. 

And glared. 

And glared. 

He stared at the back of her head for the rest of the period, filling his mind with as many non-Pietro, non-sex thoughts as possible. _I'll show her. I'll just think false things! Ha!_

_I like Jean Grey. I like Jean Grey. She's hot. She has nice tits._ He didn't even have to lie to himself for the last two mental comments. _I like Jean. I like Jean. I like Jean. This is such a boring class._

At one point during the period, Jean looked back at Lance with a very perplexed expression. He wasn't sure if this was from reading his thoughts, or because she noticed that he was staring at her relentlessly. Girls, apparently, had this sixth sense for knowing whenever they were being stared at by guys. 

Still, he watched her with resolve, his gaze not once faltering. 

_Take that!_ he thought triumphantly, then reminded himself to think "I want sex with Jean" thoughts just to disgust her further. 

The bell rang suddenly, and he realized that lunch was next. He jumped out of his seat and ran to the cafeteria, gathering many strange looks as he flew by. 

"Lance Alvers and his buddies are sooo weird," Taryn commented to Jean as they watched him run. 

"Especially Lance," Jean nodded. She suppressed a shudder, reminded of his perverted thoughts. She had only caught fragments of them, but that was more than enough for her. 

* * * * * 

Lance wondered why he was so eager to get to lunch. To put it simply, lunch was absolute torture. Why? Because Pietro decided to get a popsicle for lunch. He knew how much it would tempt and torment Lance, which made the icy treat all the more fun for him to eat. 

Much to Lance's discomfort, he was taking his sweet time consuming it. Instead of eating it like a normal person would, he ran his tongue up, down, and all around the popsicle as slow as possible, his eyes locked on Lance the whole time. 

_He's so cruel_, was Lance's agonized thought as he watched the spectacle. Apparently, he was the only one to notice. Fred and Todd were engaged in a rather heated argument over what the school's cheese was really made out of. 

"Stop that," Lance hissed in an undertone. 

"Stop what?" Pietro asked innocently. "I'm just eating my lunch." He smiled and took a large part of it into his mouth. 

"Stop eating it like you're-- Argh!" 

Pietro took a bite out of it and shrugged. Lance cringed. _I'm so glad he never did that to me..._

"You're so easy to annoy, Lance." 

"There you boys are." 

Eep. Lance felt an unpleasant presence behind him and leaned his head back to find himself staring straight up at Principal Darkholme. 

"Erm... hello," Lance said, attempting to charm her with a grin. 

"Why didn't you two report to my office?" she asked sternly. 

"Because we didn't know we were supposed to," Pietro offered. 

"Well then, Mr. Alvers, Mr. Maximoff, would you please come to my office now?" Her statement was less a question than it was a demand. 

"Aww, man," Lance groaned, getting up and following Mystique to her office. 

"What's this all about?" Pietro asked, doing the same. 

Mystique closed the door behind them and said, "Somebody keyed my car. Which one of you did it?" 

Lance folded his arms over his chest and said firmly, "What are you talking about?" 

"One of you keyed my car!" she insisted vehemently. 

Lance shook his head and said, "Wasn't me. I spent most of this day getting yelled at by _you_, remember?" 

"I didn't know your car got keyed," Pietro said honestly. 

Mystique growled with frustration. "I know it was one of you!" 

Pietro shot a knowing look at Lance, then shifted his gaze to Mystique. "You know, you're not exactly the most popular principal in the world." 

"What?" 

"I mean," he said with a shrug, "anyone could've done it. A lot of kids don't like you. You represent 'the system' that so many of them resent. Plus, you're mean." 

This not so startling revelation wasn't much of a blow to her pride, but it did make her angry. How dare he make the range of suspects larger! 

"Besides, _boss_, we would never do anything like that to you. We love you," Lance added with a broad smile. 

Mystique muttered something under her breath as she clutched her head. _Sometimes, I really hate my job._ "Okay, then. Listen up, a new recruit will be arriving to your home on Saturday, so be prepared." 

"I guess this means we finally have to clear Rogue's crap out of her room," Lance muttered. He had been avoiding cleaning her room out ever since she left. 

"So this guy is just coming to us? We don't have to run out and do anything?" Pietro asked. 

"That is what Magneto says," she replied coolly. 

"Uh... all right. Is that all?" 

"Yes. Leave," she said with some exasperation. 

The two walked out, and Mystique watched them exit, hoping to draw out a last-minute confession from them with an icy stare. _I'm almost certain one of those idiots did it! I know it!_

* * * * * 

It was a Saturday morning, and Lance was awakened by Pietro leaping onto him. 

"Gaah!" 

"Hey there," Pietro said, smirking. He had Lance pinned to the bed. "Just got a call from Mysti. Our new pal's gonna be here soon." 

"Oh, really?" Lance muttered, closing his eyes. "Screw him. I want sleep." 

"Aww, do you mean it, Lance?" Pietro cooed playfully. 

"Mean what?" 

"That I can screw him--" 

"No!" Lance was suddenly very wide awake. "No, no, no! _We_ didn't even get that far yet! You're _my_ virgin to defile!" 

Pietro blinked a few times, then his lips pulled into a sly grin. "If you say so." He kissed Lance on the lips, then said, "Now get up. You don't wanna greet him in your boxers, do you?" 

"Maybe I do," Lance challenged. Pietro gave him one of "those" looks. "Okay, fine. But you gotta get off of me, first." 

"Hmph. Oh, by the way, could you get Todd and Freddy up? I'm gonna cook some breakfast." 

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Lance mumbled, shoving Pietro off of his bed. 

"Ow!" He landed with a thud on the ground. "Now I'm not making you any coffee." 

"What?! Nooo!" came Lance's anguished protest. 

Pietro laughed and zoomed out of the room. Lance pulled on a pair of jeans that happened to be lying on the floor, and walked to his closet to pull on a clean shirt. After he was properly dressed, he sauntered into the hallway and lazily pounded his fist against Todd's door. 

"Wake up!" he called. "Mystique wants us to be ready to meet our new teammate." 

Mumbled nonsense was the reply he received. Lance shrugged and walked over to Freddy's door. He knocked loudly, but got no answer. Cautiously, Lance opened the door and peered inside. "Hey, Freddy, it's time to get-- Aah!" Lance quickly jumped away from the door as a lamp was hurled in his direction and shattered. 

"I was dreamin'!" Fred yelled irritably. 

_No wonder Pietro sent me to wake him up. I am so whipped,_ Lance thought with some dry amusement. 

"Yeah, well, we got orders!" Lance retorted. "Sort of... Anyway, clean that mess up and get dressed." 

Lance then wondered with some extremely morbid curiosity what the Blob wore to bed. _On second thought, I'd die a happy man never finding out._

Fred grumbled some insults as Lance walked away from his room and proceeded down the stairs. There, Pietro was whizzing about the kitchen making pancakes. 

"I've been thinking," he said, stopping as Lance entered the room. 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. Do you think it would be a bad idea to ask Mystique to get another stove installed here?" 

Lance chuckled and said, "After what I did to her car? She's even more pissed because she knows I did it, but can't prove it." 

"Oh, yeah. Damn. It'd make meals go so much faster, though," Pietro mumbled dejectedly. 

"It would," Lance nodded, then his eyes traveled to the coffee maker. "You're making coffee!" 

"Well, I didn't want you whining all--" Pietro was cut off by Lance wrapping his arms around him in a rib-crushing hug. 

"Coffee!" He nuzzled his unshaven cheek against Pietro's, ignoring the surprised cry. 

"Hey-- ow! Stubble burn! Stop it!" he managed to say between "ow"s and giggles. "Stop! I really-- ow-- don't think you need any caffeine--" 

"What I need right now is to kiss-- Hello." Lance relinquished Pietro from his hold and smiled nervously at Fred and Todd, who stood in the entrance of the kitchen with rather strange expressions. 

"He was helping me practice for a play," Pietro said quickly. 

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about plays of the nonexistent variety," Todd said, rolling his eyes. 

Pietro and Lance exchanged worried looks, and then Lance blurted out with, "We're dating!" while Pietro said, "This isn't what it looks like!" 

"Relax. We already know," Freddy said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. 

"Idiot!" Todd seethed, slapping his own forehead with aggravation. 

"Oh. Right," Fred corrected quickly. "I mean... we had no idea you two were dating." 

Lance blinked. 

Pietro blinked. "Does this mean we don't have to sit you guys down and talk about it in a horribly long and awkward conversation?" 

"How did you guys know?" Lance asked with suspicion. 

"Todd told me!" 

"Hey!" How dare Freddy rat him out! Lance gave Todd a menacing glare. "I-- uh-- heh, heh-- You're not gonna hurt me, are ya, Lance?" 

"We had to sneak around for weeks because we thought it was a secret!" Lance exploded. 

"You're, uh, not very discreet about it, though," Todd pointed out in an attempt to save his skin. "I mean-- um... Well, you're both kinda loud and... uh... you have hickeys... and..." Todd trailed off, then noticed some smoke rising up from the stove. He added with some dramatic flair: "Oh, no! The pancakes are burning!" 

"What?!" Pietro rushed to the stove in order to save his culinary masterpieces. 

"Phew." 

Scowling, Pietro took the burned pancakes and slapped them down on a plate. "Here you go," he said, handing the plate to Todd. 

"Aww, man..." 

"Coffee's ready!" Lance suddenly chimed, apparently forgetting all about Fred and Todd's (somewhat imaginary) wrongdoings. He poured himself a cup and threw in the usual amount of cream and sugar. Before he could burn himself with a taste, Pietro snatched the cup away and said firmly: 

"No coffee until you shave." 

"Damn," Lance muttered, sulking back upstairs to rid himself of stubble. _I really am whipped._

* * * * * 

They were about midway through breakfast when the honking of a car's horn signaled them outside. A clean-shaven Lance was the first to get up, though Pietro ended up beating him to the door anyway. 

"This is gonna be interesting," he muttered, stepping outside with the rest of the Brotherhood. 

Mystique was in the driveway, glaring impatiently at the boys. "Hurry up and get his luggage!" she snapped. 

"Yes, _ma'am_," Todd mumbled sarcastically, hopping over to the trunk. Freddy wordlessly followed. 

Pietro walked over to the passenger's side and looked at the new guy curiously. "Hey. I'm Pietro Maximoff, and you are...?" 

"St. John Allerdyce," the other boy said with a smirk and a heavy Australian accent. He swung the door open and stepped out of the car. Running long fingers through his wavy blonde hair, he looked around and said, "So, this is my new home, eh?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

Meanwhile, Lance stood there gaping at the Aussie. "John?!" 

St. John glanced over at Lance, then his eyes widened. "Lance! Long time, no see, mate!" 

"Yeah... long time," Lance said dumbly. The other boy embraced him in a fraternal hug. "How ya been?" 

"Same as always. 'ow are you?" 

"Oh... the same as always," Lance said slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Pietro. _This doesn't look good. Man, he looks pissed..._

Pietro frowned in their direction, then turned to Mystique and asked in an undertone: "So, who picked this guy up?" 

"Magneto sent somebody who called herself the Scarlet Witch to deliver John to us," Mystique answered with an ugly smile. 

"Oh? How come we haven't met her yet?" 

"Magnus has his reasons." 

Pietro looked back at Allerdyce and Lance, then asked, "What're his powers?" 

"He can control fire," was her short, curt answer. "Now, go help him get settled. And be sure to inform everyone that there will be a meeting at my office on Monday before school." 

"Yeah, all right." 

"Close the trunk, Todd!" she barked, and after he complied, she drove off without another word. 

"Geez, you brought a lot of stuff with you," Todd complained as he lugged two suitcases into the house. 

Pietro noted the mass of luggage with slight envy. It was probably more stuff than any of them ever had before joining the Brotherhood. 

He shot a glare at John and Lance and stalked inside. Already, he didn't like the guy. 

* * * * * 

It was late Saturday night at the mansion. Well, not really. It was more like very early Sunday morning. Anyway, it didn't matter what time it was because everyone was asleep already. Scott was dreaming about Jean, Jean was dreaming about Scott, Kurt was just plain dreaming, and Rogue... well, Rogue was "nightmaring". 

Lance thoughts. Ugh. How disgusting. After sucking his powers out at the mall construction site, she had been experiencing his memories while she slept. So, what was the difference between Lance memories and Mystique memories? Well, Lance's were pretty much okay... at first. Not traumatic or frightening (unless you took into consideration that the dreams were about _Lance_, then that would make them completely horrifying). A little sad at times, but it wasn't anything huge enough to make her wake up crying and screaming. Mostly, the Lance Dreams were a flurry of vandalism, cheating on tests, stealing, making out or going much further with skanky girls, and just stupid stuff like that. Rogue had a feeling that the Lance Dreams were going to rot her brain cells if they continued for too long. 

However, the most recent dream was something new and disturbing, because _Pietro_ was in it. Pietro was in it, and he was kissing Lance. And Lance was kissing him back. Lots of smooching took place in this new dream. Smooching, snuggling, cuddling, making out, neck sucking-- ew. 

And what the hell did Brad Pitt have to do with anything?! 

_Wake up, wake up, wakeupwakeup!_

Rogue awoke with a jolt, covered in that cold sweat that always seemed to follow nightmares. She was gasping harshly and deeply, as if she had just escaped drowning and had a new appreciation for air. 

"Like, what's wrong?" Kitty inquired sleepily. 

"It was-- oh mah God-- Gross!" 

"Huh?" 

"Lance dream." 

"Ew," Kitty mumbled, before rolling over into a more comfortable position and falling asleep once more. 

"Yeah," Rogue said to herself and shivered with disgust. She stared at the ceiling, afraid to go back to sleep. _Ah don't want to experience any more of those inane Lance dreams!_ she declared to herself. She had to get rid of them, and fast. She didn't want to know what else the guy did with Pietro Maximoff. 

That's it, then. She was just going to have to sample somebody else's powers and memories if she wanted to dispose of Lance's. The next time the X-Men fight the Brotherhood, she decided that she was going to use her powers on Toad-- no, Blob-- no, Quicksilver-- Damn! They were all equally bad! 

_Ah suppose Ah should just kindly ask someone at the Institute if Ah could borrow their memories for a bit,_ she thought irritably, still watching the ceiling with growing boredom and drowsiness. _Anybody's have gotta be better than Lance Alvers', unless it's one of his stupid teammates'._

* * * * *

A/N: Hehehe. Stubble burns are fun! I remember my first stubble burn from a guy... (I also ended up hitting my nose against the guy's temple.. I think. All I know is that I banged my nose on his face. It was painful, but I love him so it doesn't matter *much eye-rolling here*) I really don't think that Rogue's thoughts would be in an accent (simply because I don't think thoughts are really in any accent), but I wrote it that way just... because. Also, I adore Pyro and have been looking for a way to bring him in since Chapter 1. Finally, I got lazy and devised the oh, so clever "He's already on his way because I'm too lazy to think up an excuse" situation. Even though Pyro's one of my most favorite characters (under Quicksilver, Gambit, and Deadpool :P), he's probably going to be portrayed as a huge jerk later in the story, so I warn you now. I'm not really sure why I'm inclined to make him that way... Anyway, that doesn't matter. What matters is that this story will be coming to an end soon and I'll have a sequel running around. 

Uhh, but I kind of need help with the sequel. I don't know if I should keep the current mood of the story, or actually make it dark like I had planned. Anyway, it's going to take place a year or two later and has to do with the emergence of the anti-mutant factions blah blah blah. 

Anywho, what do you think? Should I make it darker or somehow make the Friends of Humanity a comical thing? (erm... I wonder if that's possible) Oh yeah, and I might end up sticking Pietro with another character very briefly just to tick off Lance. I don't know who yet, though. Ehhh, I babble too much... 


	6. Run, Run, as Fast as You Can!

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own these characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. (I'm not even gonna bother changing this anymore :D) 

A/N: Wow, I feel loved! I never thought this story would get so many reviews! And I give thanks to my new beta-reader (The Infernal Jynk) for... uh... beta reading the chapter. ^_^ 

Anyway, there's not much to say about this chapter (except that I don't like it more than I don't like Chapter 2 :D), so... uh... read on? 

**Chapter 6: Run, Run, as Fast as You Can!**

By Monday morning, Pietro had been forced to listen to St. John Allerdyce's entire life story repeatedly from a suddenly giddy Lance. 

To sum it up: he was kid from a well-to-do family. He lived in Chicago with relatives for a bit of his life, where he was Lance's bestest best friend in the whole wide world. A year or two ago, he went back to Australia because his parents had missed him (or something like that. Pietro wasn't listening with all of his attention by that point). This is what he had picked up in between tales of childhood mischief and all the other crap Lance and John used to do while the Aussie lived in Chicago. 

From Allerdyce, he got the entire tale of his recruitment to the Brotherhood. Basically, some chick (some hot chick, according to John) who called herself the "Scarlet Witch" picked him up, talked to him about his already emerged (but not yet exploited) powers, and convinced him that being under Magneto's guidance would be the best deal for him. Then, he persuaded his parents to let him move to America, where he could deal with his "problem" and come back a better man. And that was that. 

It made Pietro sick. From the sound of it, Allerdyce's life was pretty easy. Rich, loving, understanding parents. Didn't have to be sent to jail or level part of his school... All he had to do was answer "yes" to a simple question and *poof!* he was in the Brotherhood. 

Plus, seeing him hog Lance to catch up on old times was extremely nerve grating. Pietro was beginning to have difficulties suppressing his urge to speedily punch the guy. _I'm fast enough, I could do it without anyone noticing. And then when he complains about being hit, I'll just say it was... Okay, I can't think up an alibi._

Monday. The dullest day of the week. Pietro rolled over and stared at the wall for a few moments. _Don't wanna get up. Wanna sleep more. Mmm... sleep. Sleep's almost as nice as Lance._ He wondered briefly where Lance was and decided to get up and get ready for school. After all, there was that stupid meeting to go to. 

"_Come on!_ Why are you acting like this?! Haven't I been good to you, baby?!" he suddenly heard Lance shout from outside. 

"I really don't think that constitutes as bein' good to your baby," came John's amused voice in response. 

Pietro scowled at the sound of the two and began to get ready. After completing his short morning routine, he grabbed his backpack and headed outside, casting a curious glance at Lance and the other three members of the Brotherhood. 

"What are you yelling about?" 

"His car won't start," John offered, as Lance was too busy pleading and kicking the car, "and he apparently thinks that he's bein' good to it by beatin' it." 

"Kicking it is not going to get it started, Lance," Pietro said flatly, blowing off Allerdyce and walking over to the angry teen and the dented vehicle. 

"Works with the television," Lance grumbled. 

"We're wasting more time by doin' this, Alvers. Let's just walk," John suggested impatiently. 

"Yeah. Mystique wants us at her office before school starts. If we walk to school, we could still make it." 

"You could still make it, Pietro," Lance snapped, delivering another kick to the car for good measure. "Oh well, I guess that's our only option." 

"Aww, I don't feel like walking," Fred whined. "Why don't we try the car again?" 

"You couldn't even fit in the car, Fred, we have an extra person to take!" was Pietro's annoyed response. "Look, we're already on thin ice with her, and I, for one, don't want to get into any trouble." 

"Pietro, haven't you noticed how you're the only one of us who _doesn't_ get disciplined by Mystique?" Lance asked, receiving agreeing nods from Freddy and Todd. 

"I 'aven't been disciplined yet," John added helpfully. 

"Just give yourself time, you will," Lance retorted firmly. 

"Sorry, Lance, I'll try harder to get on her bad side if that'll make you happy," Pietro said with a roll of his eyes. "However, right now, I'm going to school." And with that, he was gone. 

* * * * * 

"Where are those buffoons?" Principal Darkholme demanded. 

Pietro shrugged. "Probably still trying to get Lance's car started. You know, we could really use a new car." 

"I'll consult Magneto about it," she replied skeptically. "Tell them to walk in the meantime." 

"They won't listen to me." 

"Well, make them listen!" she snapped. "I have some small orders for you boys and--" 

"We're... here!" Lance gasped, leaning in the doorway. 

"What happened?" Pietro inquired, not bothering to get up from his seat in front of Mystique's desk. 

"He spent another couple minutes tryin' to get it started, then he just started running at top speed," Todd explained from behind Lance, who finally dragged himself into the office. 

"By the way, Lance, you forgot your backpack," John said with a smirk. 

"Aww, damn!" 

"Where's Mr. Dukes?" asked Mystique as she glared sternly at the boys. 

"Beats me. We lost Freddy a couple blocks away," Lance said, collapsing onto a chair beside Pietro. "Doesn't matter, we'll just fill him in like usual-- er, unless you actually need his input for once." 

"No. You four will suffice. Oh, and here's your schedule, Mr. Allerdyce," she said in an offhand tone as she handed the new recruit a sheet of paper from her desk. 

"So, what's this about?" 

"I've caught word that Xavier has repaired and possibly upgraded Cerebro since the Juggernaut's attack." She was met with blank looks. Sighing, she continued. "Magneto has instructed that Mr. Allerdyce not use his powers until told to." 

"Why?" 

"Because if he does, Cerebro, upgraded or not, will detect him, and we want our latest addition to be a nasty surprise for the X-Men." 

"So, does Mags have any plans for us, besides keeping John's being a mutant under wraps?" Lance asked, already growing bored with the meeting. 

"Yes. He wants all of you to lay low for now. Apparently, mutants are becoming known to the public. It's developing into a controversial issue in the Washington area. It's best that we avoid being caught up in the mess for now. We'll fully reveal ourselves when the time is right." 

"Sooo... what exactly does this mean?" 

"Consider yourselves on vacation for now, boys. Try not to use your powers very much, _especially_ in public. This specifically applies to you two, Todd and Pietro. Todd, you will _not_ use your tongue on school grounds, or eat insects, or flip around. And Pietro, you are to _walk_ at a normal pace." 

"Walk?! That's just cruel!" Pietro protested, standing up. He could've sworn he heard her murmur "Good" under her breath. Well, that wasn't nice. Of course, Mystique wasn't exactly the model of niceness. 

"Okay, is that all?" Lance asked, getting up as well. 

"Yes, go." 

As they walked out of her office, Pietro could swear she was giving him the same look that she had when he first asked about that witch girl. He shrugged it off and followed Lance (and, unfortunately, Allerdyce) to his locker. 

"This sucks," he muttered. "You know, nobody even notices when I run, anyway! They just think it's a draft or something, so what's the big deal with me using my pow--" 

Lance's hand abruptly covered Pietro's mouth. "Shh, no using the 'p' word in public." 

Pietro mumbled something from behind the fingers. 

"Eh?" he asked, moving his hand away. 

"I said 'fuck you'." 

"You first," Lance retorted with that stupid 'I want some' grin on his face. 

"Ahh... is there something you neglected to tell me?" John asked warily. 

Oops. 

"We kid! This is the way we joke!" Lance forced, using the same phony laugh that he once used to convince himself that he didn't like Pietro. The morning bell rang, thankfully cutting Lance off. 

"Okay. To each his own, pal. So, care to show me where my classes are?" 

"Sure, buddy," Lance agreed, waving off Pietro and walking away with John. 

_Oh, how I wish I wasn't the jealous type_, Pietro thought with a frown. _But I am, so grr._

* * * * * 

Evan Daniels was late. _Crap! Crapcrapcrap!_ were the thoughts rushing to his head as he ran down the hall to his third period: art class. _One more tardy, and I get detention._ It wasn't his fault he was always late; his second period class was at the other end of the school. 

He burst into his classroom and skidded to a halt as the tardy bell rang. 

"Just on time, Evan. I'm impressed," Mrs. Adams, his teacher, remarked in an amused voice. 

He took his usual seat, looked to the right, noticed a new student, then focused his attention to the teacher. He then did a double-take. 

Female. Auburn curls framing a face of lightly tanned skin and azure eyes. Pretty cute. Mmm. 

"Well, hello there," he greeted, lowering the pitch of his voice in an attempt to sound manly and not fourteen. 

"Hi. Is there something wrong with your voice?" 

Evan coughed and said uncertainly, "Ahh, no, just had a-- ah-- frog in my throat?" 

"I see," she said with a chuckle. 

"I'm Evan Daniels. Are you new here?" _Duh, of course she's new! Stupid question._

"Yes. This is the first time in a while that I've been to a public school. I'm Wanda, by the way. Wanda Maximoff." 

"Wanda, eh? Wanda Maxi-- what?!" 

"Evan, is there a problem?" asked Mrs. Adams. 

"Uh, no, ma'am," he replied, flushing with embarrassment. For the rest of the class period, he tried to avoid awkwardness with Wanda as much as possible. It was quite difficult, since he was seated next to her and all. As her lump of clay became more and more hideously deformed, he cringed and tried his best not to offer her any help. The words refused to leave his mouth, which was fine, due to his little plan of avoidance. So, instead of aiding her in a horribly uncomfortable manner, he simply ended up gaping at her, opening and shutting his mouth like a fish out of water. 

_Pietro's sister. Of all the luck!_ he thought dejectedly, turning his attention back to his sculpture. _Maybe they just have the same last name. After all, I've never heard of Pietro having a sister before..._ His eyes traveled back to the artistic abomination. _Okay, so she's not the best artist in the world..._

Wanda growled in frustration and smashed the clay. 

_She definitely has Pietro's temper. Well, who cares about him? I'll offer the girl help if I damn well want to!_

"Hey, need any help with that?" the girl beside Wanda asked. 

_Darn! Beaten to the question!_

"Oh, sure. Thanks." 

_Well, Evan, my man, you're being stupid,_ he told himself in third person. _That's Pietro's sister, cousin, or some relative of his; besides, offering her help wouldn't have gotten you anywhere, anyway._

"The bell's going to ring in ten minutes, class, so clean up." 

_Ahh, an excuse to get away from Wanda and avoid awkwardness._ Evan got up and cleaned the clay mess on his table. He then walked over to a sink to wash his hands, where he bumped into Wanda. 

"Excuse me," she said, blushing. "I didn't get clay on you, did I?" 

"No-- er, uh-- do you... um-- do you have a brother or a male relative that goes to this school?" 

"Uh..." She avoided his eyes and began to wash her hands. "No. Why?" 

"No reason! Let me officially welcome you to Bayville High!" He offered his hand, then withdrew. "Oh yeah, the clay. Let's forget the handshake, then." 

"Okay," she laughed. She turned the sink off and grabbed a paper towel. "I think I'm going to like it here." 

* * * * * 

After class ended, Evan met up with Scott, Jean, and Rogue in the hall. 

"Hey, guys." 

"Hey... have you noticed anything strange about the Brotherhood lately?" Scott replied. Always to the point. Evan wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a flaw. 

"Not me!" Rogue piped quickly. 

"No, nothing at all," Jean said nervously, as if she was being interrogated for some crime. 

"I met a girl with the same last name as Pietro's, but I don't think that counts." 

"Oh... okay. Well, I have. Ever since that incident in the park... You know what Alvers did today in Physics?" asked Scott. 

"No, what?" 

"Nothing!" 

"I... see how that could be a problem, man," Evan said slowly with some skepticism. 

"He's usually doing something stupid, that's the thing. He didn't even insult me today! Jean, could you try to pick up some thoughts, see if Mystique and them are up to--" 

"No. No, I can't. Sorry, Scott, but I-- ah... no." 

"Jean, are you feeling okay? You're acting a little--" 

"I'm fine, Scott, don't get worried about me." 

"And as for Lance, uh-- you shouldn't be concerned about him. Ah doubt he's plannin' anything," Rogue insisted. 

"Well, it's not just Lance. I mean, the others are acting a little stranger than usual, too. Like Pietro--" 

"Ah'm sure it's nothin'!" Rogue said vehemently, suddenly paling more than usual. "They're just a bunch of freaks! Let 'em act that way without persecutin' them!" 

"Um... okay." 

"Gotta go! Don't wanna be late for class!" Jean and Rogue quickly said, taking their leave, resulting in Evan and Scott standing alone with looks of mild confusion on their faces. 

"Girls," Evan said with wonder. "They're so hard to figure out." 

"Tell me about it," Scott groaned. 

* * * * * 

Pietro sat in the locker room, impatiently tapping his foot while waiting for the bell to ring. He had already finished dressing back into his regular clothes, and so he was stuck in a room with a bunch of sweaty, half-naked guys moving at snail's pace to get their normal clothes back on. This was the farthest thing from Heaven. 

_I love gym class,_ he thought dryly. There was a sudden shriek, and he sighed. _Todd's getting into trouble with some jocks again. This is as regular as clockwork. I wish things would change._

He then remembered that things had changed, what with the arrival of Allerdyce and the death of Lance's car, not to mention his dating Lance and getting a tiny bit farther with him only a few days ago. 

_Okay, so those are changes. But, I want school changes, too! No more routine! No more waiting around for the rest of the world! I'm gonna-- _

Not use my powers. 

Damn it! This is so boring! Bell, ring now! he commanded with his amazing mental powers. 

No such luck. He looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. _Five more minutes. That's like five hours. Five days. Five weeks. Five-- okay. Point taken._

He looked down at his foot, whose tapping was rapidly gaining in speed. 

"Oops," he muttered, digging the heel of his other foot into the offending tapper. He stared at his feet intently. The tappy foot was beginning to bounce to life again. 

"Stop that," he growled, digging his heel in further. "Ow..." 

One terribly long minute passed. Four more to go. 

"What did you say about my mother?!" 

"Uh... I didn't say nothin'!" 

_Poor, poor Todd. I suppose I should go help him, but... nah._

He began to bounce lightly on the bench, his pent up energy yearning to be released. 

_Okay, stop,_ he commanded himself. _No more bouncing. Can't use my powers. Can't run, must walk. Must keep energy locked away inside because I'll get in trouble if I don't. Get used to it, body!_

"Um... What's the matter, Maximoff? You're squirming around like you have to use the bathroom, or something..." some guy whose name he didn't know commented warily. 

"Huh? I don't have to use the bathroom. I have to... have to-- Argh! I can't take this anymore! I have to run free and-- and-- _Run!_" 

"Dude, you have problems." 

"Freedom!" Pietro declared as he jumped up from his seat and ran out of the boys' locker room at the most "normal" speed he could muster. 

"What's up with him?" 

"Dunno. He just freaked out." 

One boy peeked out into the gym and said, "He's... running laps." 

"Why? The bell's going to ring soon." 

"Um, maybe we should tell Coach." 

Meanwhile, Pietro ran, trying not to use his powers. As he sprinted around the gym, he muttered little things to himself like: "Run, run, as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm--" 

"Maximoff!" Coach called. 

"Crap." He stopped. "Yes?" 

"I've written you a pass. I think you need to speak with the counselor." 

Pietro strolled over to his teacher and asked innocently: "Why?" 

"I think you may have some-- eh, issues. Jones here tells me you've had a nervous breakdown." 

"But, I'm fine." 

"No 'but's." He handed Pietro the pass. "Now, go see the counselor." 

Pietro blinked, then pocketed the pass. "Okay." 

* * * * * 

"So-- Pietro, is it?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm Mrs. Madison. So, I hear you've had a sort of nervous breakdown?" 

"I didn't have a nervous breakdown!" 

"Mm hm. I know at your age there's a lot of pressure on you. School, parents, girls... It's okay to have feelings of frustration. Now, everything you tell me will remain confidential. I'm not here to judge you. Tell me, have you been experiencing some changes in your life?" 

"Some, maybe, I guess-- yeah," Pietro admitted, still feeling a little fidgety. He squirmed in his seat, trying to hold back the urge to bounce and run around. 

"I see." She jotted something down in her notebook. "Care to tell me about them?" 

"Well, it all started a Sunday morning a couple months ago, shortly after I transferred here. Anyway, I was sleeping, and a... uh, friend of mine decided to come in and--" 

* * * * * 

Pietro had missed half of lunch by the time he was let out of Mrs. Madison's office. He walked briskly to the cafeteria, smiling brightly. It felt good and healthy to talk about things. Mrs. Madison urged him to speak to her again if he was still having problems. She also suggested that he might have ADD, but he knew better. It was only his powers and nothing-- 

_Who's that?_

He stopped, standing at the entrance to the cafeteria, and stared at a girl sitting with Daniels, Summers, and the rest of the geeks. That face... 

"Wanda?" he asked himself softly. 

He walked towards them, ignoring Lance and the others as he passed their table up. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug and exclaimed, "Wanda!" 

"Hey, jerk, get off--" She stood up and spun to face him furiously. Her harsh gaze softened as she recognized him. "Pietro?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. 

He nodded shakily, at a total loss for words. 

"Brother," she whispered, her voice cracking. She draped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, holding back tears. "I've missed you so much." 

* * * * * 

While the two siblings embraced, Lance saw things a bit differently from his table. _An affair? But why?! _

I will not make the ground shake. I will not make the ground shake. 

"'ey," John said, staring at the two. "That's that witch chick." 

_That ho's a mutant?!_

"Lance, are you all right?" 

"I'm. Fine," he growled. He watched Pietro and the girl with a hard gaze as they approached. 

_Bitch!_ "Hey, Pietro," he said tightly. _Cheating son of a--_ "And... you." 

"Uh, guys... This is Wanda, my--" 

"You're having an affair!" Lance exploded. 

"I-- huh? Lance, Wanda's my twin sister," Pietro explained calmly and patiently, as if he was speaking to a rather slow child. 

"Oh. Hi, Wanda," Lance said with a large, nervous grin. 

"Hello," she greeted. 

"Affair on who?" the clueless John suddenly asked. 

"No one. Nothing," Lance muttered. 

"You are one confusing bloke, Lance." 

"Hey, Pietro, aren't you gonna introduce us to your sis?" Todd asked in that voice that people reserved only for when asking others for favors (A/N: HUH?). 

"Ohh, uh, yeah. Wanda, that psychopath is Lance. And that's Freddy, Todd, and John." 

"I've met John," she said with a pleasant smile as she looked at the handsome Australian. 

"G'day, luv," he said with a wink. "Been a while, hasn't it?" he joked, flashing her a grin. 

"Two days is just too long, Allerdyce," she replied, her tone flirty. 

_No, no, no! She's not flirting with that Australian blowhard!_

"You've met?" Pietro asked through gritted teeth. 

"Oh, long story, Pietro." Wanda focused her attention back to her brother. "Hey, can we meet after school somewhere? There's so much I want to talk to you about." 

"Yeah. I know a good place." 

* * * * * 

"Aww, man, I should've known she was his sister!" Evan griped after Wanda and Pietro left. 

"You'd think their similar last names vould've tipped you off," Kurt said with a good-natured grin. 

"Well, she said she didn't have a brother that went to this school," Evan grumbled in his own defense. "From the looks of things, she didn't know that Pietro _does_ go to this school." 

"Do you think she's, like, a mutant?" asked Kitty curiously. 

"If she is, there's no question she'll join the Brotherhood now," Scott said with his usual serious demeanor. "I doubt we can reach her." 

"Yeah. And who's that other guy?" Rogue asked, pointing out John from the Brotherhood. 

"Maybe another recruit. In any case, we'll ask the Professor if he's noticed any new mutant activity on Cerebro." 

* * * * * 

School was over, and Pietro found himself sitting under a tree with his sister. He settled in the grass, lying on his back. He stared up at the leaves of the sheltering tree and said, "Is this somewhere okay?" 

"Yes." 

"So, where do we begin?" 

She laughed softly. "I really don't know, Pietro." 

"You're that 'Scarlet Witch' girl, aren't you?" 

"Yeah. What tipped you off?" she asked sarcastically. 

Pietro sat up and looked at her with a serious expression "Does this mean that you're a-- er, that you have powers?" he asked in a hushed voice, even though the two were alone. 

She gave him a hint of a nod. "And I assume you're a part of the Brotherhood." 

"Yeah. Aren't you?" 

"I guess. Only because my father wants me to." 

"Father?" 

"Well," she said, adding another nervous chuckle, "he's not really my-- our-- father, but he might as well me. He's such a great man, Pietro. He took me in, fed me, talked to me about what I considered a curse, trained me to master my skills..." 

"What happened to those people who adopted you?" he asked with concern. 

"Oh, them?" She looked at the ground and shifted uncomfortably. "They died. Our house burned down, and Father saved me. He assured me that everything would be okay, then he took me into his home and made me family. It's just me and him. But, enough of that. How have you been?" Wanda smiled suddenly, her blue eyes sparkling. "Have a girlfriend yet?" 

"Um... sort of... Not really." 

"Sort of? Not really? So, you have a boyfriend, then?" she pried, grinning mischievously. 

"Ah... er... Lance-friend," he said quickly, going red in the face (much to his sister's pleasure). 

"Lance-friend? You never did make any sense," she proclaimed, shoving him playfully. 

Pietro laughed. "Well, my Lance-friend doesn't make any sense, so it's a match made in Heaven." He paused, then said, "Hey, Wanda?" 

"Hm?" 

"It's been ten years since we came to America, right?" 

"I think so. Why?" 

"I was just wondering. Do you have any recollection of what brought us here?" 

"A little, yes." 

"Funny. I don't remember anything. Our parents, our country, our language-- nothing. So, I was just wondering." 

"Well, I remember..." Wanda trailed off. She drew her knees to her chest and shivered. "I remember fire and hatred. I remember people yelling and cursing us." 

"A mob wielding torches, kinda like in that old Frankenstein movie," Pietro joked nervously. "All I know is our names. I can't even remember the _language_ I spoke! Sometimes a word here or there will come to mind, but I don't get much more than that. Kind of sad, isn't it?" 

"No," she answered as she stared down at her feet. "Sometimes some things are so traumatic that people simply force themselves to forget. When the memory is gone, it's as if the bad never happened. Besides, we were only small children then. Children can occasionally replace one language with another, depending on their age when they move to a new country. I think so, anyway." 

"When did you get so wise?" he asked, a true smile breaking into his features. 

"When you're as great as me, wisdom is a necessity," she said with a haughty toss of her hair and a smirk. 

Pietro leaned forward and kissed his sister affectionately on the forehead. "I love you, Wanda." 

"I love you, too, Pietro," she replied, throwing her arms around him. "It feels so good to be with you again. It's almost unreal." 

"Feels real to me." 

"I'm glad. I hope we never get separated again," she whispered, letting the tears fall from her eyes. 

* * * * *

A/N: Okay, that was cheap of me making Pietro forget Romany. But, I haven't found very many good resources on the language, and I am NEVER EVER going to do this: *Everything inside of the asterisks is in Japanese/German/Romany/whatever* So, in order to avoid doing that, I made him an amnesiac! Yay! (okay, not really. Well, at least I attempted to have Wanda come up with a reasonable answer...) . Wasn't the death of Lance's car sad? :D 

Oh, and Wanda may be out of character. This would be because a) She's not in Evolution, and b) I know close to nothing about her because she's not in any of the comics I own (well, okay, there's a picture of her in Quicksilver #1...), and I haven't found a lot of info on her personality. Uh, and as for Pyro, I really don't want to make him "Blatant Australian Stereotype Man!", so I'm going to avoid using "mate" and "Shrimp on the barbie" and "G'day!" and stuff as much as possible (unless it actually fits or he's joking and purposely acting like "Blatant Australian Stereotype Man!"). 

Also, I've held off Magneto's reaction to the affair because I still don't know how he's going to react yet. Hehe. This is what I get for not planning ahead. Anyway, there's only going to be two, maybe three, chapters left of this story. Then, it'll be all done and I write SEQUEL! Hahahaaaaaa. 


	7. Of Morlocks and Nachos

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own these characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. (I'm not even gonna bother changing this anymore :D) 

A/N: Yay! I have 60 reviews! That makes me happy! Anyway, I suppose I should babble before presenting the chapter to you. 

This chapter is crap (in my opinion). It's basically another filler chapter, but the difference between this one and the other fillers is that I didn't bother to get this one beta-read. Why, no one may ask? Well, I'm sick of this chapter now and I want it out of my hair as soon as possible. :P Because I want to just hurry up and get it posted, I'm not getting it beta-read. Therefore, with nobody to point out its flaws, this chapter is probably crap. :D Besides, I wrote it in the prime of finals (thank God they're over!), and my brain tends to be drained of humor and creative energy during that time. 

Oh, yeah, this chapter has a lot of pointlessness in it, like the smoking scene, which in no way represents my feelings on the subject. I happen to be neutral when it comes to smoking. Anyway, Lance strikes me as the type who used to smoke but was forced to quit upon joining the Brotherhood, but that's just my opinion. Just wanted to clarify that in case I somehow offend someone. I don't know how that would... oh, nevermind. 

By the way, Cerebro will only detect a mutant after he/she has used his/her powers in its range, right? Well, if that's wrong, I don't care because I'm going to pretend that's the way it works. :D 

**Chapter 7: Of Morlocks and Nachos**

Lance sat in the living room, facing the ultimate temptation. So tantalizing, so provocative. Sweet, yummy, even better than a naked and willing Pietro-- cigarettes. 

He tore his eyes away from the pack of cigarettes and sipped his coffee. Nevermind that it was 10:00 at night, he had to have coffee. If he didn't, then he'd probably jump onto the coffee table and raid the pack mercilessly. Besides, it was decaf. 

Sweet, sweet decaf coffee. It would take his mind off of the horribly tempting, wonderful--- 

"John, please put those damn things away," Lance said in a strained voice. 

"Eh?" John looked up from the book he was reading and stared at Lance questioningly. "You mean the fags?" 

"Yes, those things. They're so tempting, so-- you know that Mystique's gonna make you quit smoking, right?" 

"Yeah, like she did with you. That's why I'm gettin' as many in as I can before she does," John answered with a grin. 

"Smoking is bad," Lance forced himself to reply, though he was thinking quite the opposite. The packet remained on the table, and John continued to smoke his cigarette and read his book. Ahh, the sweet smell of smoke. _Wait a minute. Second-hand smoke is twice as dangerous as actually smoking, right? Sooo, if I just take a cigarette, then I'll actually be doing myself a favor instead of dying from second-hand smoke. Yeah..._

Lance leaned forward, set his coffee on the table, and took a cigarette. "Got a lighter?" he asked John. 

"Sure, mate--" 

The front door opened and Pietro practically bounded in happily. Lance fumbled with the cigarette and threw it behind the couch quickly. He smiled innocently at Pietro. 

"How'd it go?" he asked, once more grabbing his coffee cup. 

"Great! It was so good to finally see my sister again! We talked for hours and-- and-- talked! And then we had dinner! And then we talked more! And now we're all caught up with the ten years we lost!" he said quickly and excitedly, casually grabbing John's cigarette and snuffing it in Lance's coffee in the process. "Don't think I didn't see you with that cancer stick, Lance." 

"Hey!" was the response from both Lance and John. 

"Don't 'hey' me! The house is gonna smell, you guys are gonna smell, and I'm going to get lung cancer from your smoke! Besides, I thought Mystique made you quit, Lance. And she's going to make you quit, too, Allerdyce." 

Lance rolled his eyes. "Here he goes with the DARE pep-talk." 

"Smoking is so gross! I don't understand how anyone in their right mind would do it! I mean, how could you possiblyGoAndRuinYourOwnBodiesLikeThat--" Pietro went on and on, though Lance stopped listening, as it was growing harder to understand what the fast-talking sophomore was saying. As he talked, Pietro snatched Lance's contaminated coffee and took it into the kitchen to dispose of it. He came back out of the kitchen, still ranting about the dangers of "cancer sticks", and hastily made his way upstairs. 

"Erm... that was strange." 

"Tell me about it," Lance responded. 

"Is 'e always like that?" 

"No. I don't think I've ever seen him like that." Lance stood up and started upstairs. "I'm gonna see what that was all about." 

"Take your time," John replied, picking up another cigarette and going back to his book. 

* * * * * 

"Lance!" 

Pounce! 

"Holy-- Pietro, what are you doing?!" came Lance's startled cry as he tackled from behind. The second he entered Pietro's room, he was ambushed. 

"Let's have sex." 

"What?!" _Are we going to have another repeat of the bathroom incident?_ "As nice as that sounds-- why?" 

"Beeecause," Pietro started, dragging out the word as he clung to Lance's back like a child. He lowered his voice and whispered in Lance's ear in a conspiratorial voice, as if he was just revealing a huge secret: "I had caffeine." 

Uh oh. 

"Ca-caffeine? You? With all the energy you have to begin with?" Frightening thought. Lance didn't really want to believe what he was hearing. 

"Yep!" Pietro affirmed, nodding energetically. "Wanda told me that a coke wouldn't hurt, so I drank one. It's been years since I've had a caffeinated drink, you know. So, I had another. And another. Now I want sex. I've got enough energy to go round after round after--" 

"Look," Lance said, swerving around and falling onto the bed, landing on Pietro. "I--" 

"Ow. GetOff," 

"Sorry," Lance murmured, rolling over to prevent further Pietro-squishing. "Anyway, as I was saying... I don't think we should have sex just because you're hyper-- er, more-so than usual." 

"Oh, please, you're always complaining about how you never get any," the speedster said, climbing on top of Lance with a smirk. "You want to pass this up?" 

"Yeah, because..." Lance trailed off purposely, giving Pietro a surreptitious grin. 

"Because?" 

"I already have some plans brewing in this head o' mine. They'd be a lot less special if we just went ahead and had sex now for no reason. Besides, shouldn't your first time be your most special?" 

"How do you know it'd be my first time?" Pietro asked with a little frown, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly. "And anyway, I heard the first time is the most disappointing," he added with a little grin. 

"Hey! Trust me, I have enough skill to make it the best experience of your life!" 

"Do you, now?" he asked with interest, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Yes. So, why don't we work out your energy some other way? I could think of some fun, non-sex--" 

"Wanda lives with Magneto, you know. He's her foster father. Funny, huh? To think that guy actually has a human side apart from the Darth Vadar side. Maybe that's why I never get into trouble, because I'm Wanda's brother and he-- or Mystique-- knows it. I think that's why Mystique was giving me those creepy knowing looks every time I asked about the Scarlet Witchie, you know? 

"I really like coke-- the drink, I mean, not the drug. You know what's really cool? Wanda still remembers a little bit of our native language-- Romany-- and she's going to teach me and-- mmph!" He was silenced by an abrupt kiss from an impatient Lance. 

"You should never, _ever_ have caffeine again," Lance murmured as he pulled his lips away from Pietro's. 

"And you should never smoke again. You told me that you stopped smoking when you joined up with Mystique! I mean, I know you used to smoke, and I know for a _fact_ you were about to light up when I came in." 

"You know so much," retorted Lance sarcastically. 

"I know all." He snuggled against Lance and rested his head on the other boy's chest. "Hey, what were you like before joining the Brotherhood?" 

"You wouldn't be asking if you really knew all." 

"Okay, so I lied. All I know of your past is that your real name's Dominic, and you smoked because you're stupid," he said in a teasing voice. 

"Hey, insults get you nowhere, Speedy. You wanna know what my life was like? It was pointless. I mean, it wasn't bad, it was just pointless. All I did was drink, smoke, vandalize, cheat-- it was fun, but all in all my life was just a bunch of cheap kicks." Lance decided, for his own safety, to completely omit the many affairs with easy girls from his paraphrased life story. 

"Pointless, eh? Kinda like a fruit-fly." 

"Thanks for the analogy," came Lance's dry reply. "Why are you interested in knowing, anyway?" 

"Because I want to know more about you, Lance Alvers," Pietro said slowly and deliberately, a hint of humor mixed with the seriousness in his voice. "Not just who you are now, but who you used to be." 

"Why?" 

"Because, I-- eh, it doesn't matter. I'm just curious, that's all." He sat up and removed himself from Lance and the bed. "I think I'm gonna go out and work off this extra energy," he announced as he stretched a bit. 

"Okay. Have fun." 

Pietro nodded and headed for the exit, stopping as John stepped into the doorway. "Oh, hey there. Is there a reason you're about to walk into my room?" 

"Thought I'd join you and Lance, since this seems to be the hot-spot of the house right now," John said in a sardonic voice, shrugging. 

"Okay, whatever. I'm on my way out, anyway, so would you kindly move your ass?" 

"Oh, sure thing. By the way, your sister-- did she mention me at all?" 

"Ahh... no," Pietro answered, shaking his head. "Not one word. See ya." He shoved Allerdyce out of his way as politely as possible and promptly left the house. 

"Shit!" Lance seethed mere seconds after Pietro's departure. "I forgot to remind him that he's not supposed to play with his powers!" 

"I'm sure 'e'll be okay, pal," John assured him calmly. He stared at Lance in silence for a moment, then exploded with, "What the hell is goin' on 'ere?!" 

Caught off guard, Lance could only respond the most intelligent answer he could muster at the moment. "Huh?" 

"You and that little hyperactive prick! What's goin' on between you two?!" 

"Ohhh, that..." Lance sat up and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing." 

"Please. Don't give me that," John retorted, rolling his eyes. "I saw 'im all over you, and I heard bits and pieces of your conversation. You're tryin' to tell me that's nothin'?" 

"Um... yes?" 

Lance's answer only received an angry scowl and sigh from his old friend. "What 'appened to you, Lance? You've been a totally different person since I came back. Looks like you managed to clean up your life a bit and go gay in the process." 

"I didn't 'go gay', John!" Lance snapped. "I still like girls." 

"Uh huh. 'bout as much as the French like the English." 

"Okay, let's just say-- hypothetically-- that I _do_ like guys-- which isn't true, because I only like one guy. What would you do?" 

"How the hell should I know?! Do you expect me to just suddenly be cool with it?" 

"No, I don't! I don't know what to expect from you, John, I just don't want you to freak out and hate me!" Lance stood up and stalked over to his friend. "So, what are you going to do?" 

John stared at him, his expression a mixture of anger, shock, and confusion. "I-- I guess I could deal with it. Just give me time and don't smooch or _cuddle_ around me. I don't think I could handle seeing you guys doin' that just yet, especially because I find your taste in boys rather poor." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that your special friend's a little jerk, and it baffles my mind why you're with him." John's stern expression softened and he grinned. "To each 'is own, eh?" 

"He's only a jerk to you because-- uh-- I don't know. He's mean to you?" Lance asked as this news finally registered with him. 

"You, my friend, are the densest person I've ever met. He bloody hates me, doofus! Can't you tell?" 

"I never really noticed it before. Are you sure? I think he just needs time to get to know you." 

John leaned forward, nose-to-nose with Lance, and grinned wolfishly. "I think he's jealous. I think he's afraid I might come and sweep you away from him." 

"That's kinda-- okay, makes sense, I guess. Want me to talk to him?" 

John pulled back and shook his head. "Nah. I don't really care what he thinks about me, unless that would affect the opinions of his sis." 

"You like her?" 

"She's cute. We shared a few moments back in Oz," he answered with a chuckle. "Hey, you don't think that homosexuality's got anything to do with genes, do ya? Like, if one twin's gay, then the other is too?" 

"I doubt it. Especially if you shared a 'moment' with her." 

"Good," John said with relief. 

"So, you and me, we're okay?" 

"Yeah, whatever. I'm not all that comfortable with it, but I can deal." 

"Thanks, man," Lance said, smiling with relief. "You know, this doesn't really change anything. We can still talk about chicks and look at porn and... uh... not smoke." 

"Aww." 

* * * * * 

The week rolled by pretty smoothly for most of the Brotherhood. Pietro spent most of his time glued to his sister's side, while Lance was often busy doing things to catch up on old times with John. Needless to say, Freddy and Todd couldn't help but feel a little gypped (however, they soon learned never to use that word around Wanda, as she took offense to it). 

"Man, why don't we got anybody?" Todd griped suddenly during study hall. It was the only class he had with Fred and none of the other guys; therefore, it was the only period where he was safe to complain about his teammates. 

"Well, we have each other." 

"Dude, that sounded so-- shut up." 

Fred shot him an irked glare and went back to etching swear words on his desk. He wanted to hit Todd, but then that would get him in trouble with Mystique, and he didn't want to listen to another one of her lectures. 

"It's not fair! Lance has Pietro and John. Pietro has Lance and his sis. John has Lance and Wanda. What do we got? _Each other_," Todd complained, his voice mimicking Freddy's as he spat out the last two words. 

"Maybe we need to get ourselves girlfriends," Fred mumbled. 

"Yeah. You got dibs on Jean, I'll bet. Good luck. The toad boy and the fat guy? No one wants to date us, stupid!" 

"I am _this close_ to hitting you, Toad," Freddy growled, as he was beginning to lose his patience. 

"Sorry, sorry. Look, man, we need to go out and recruit our _own_ people to the team! Then we'd have our own friends!" 

"How are we going to find them?" asked Fred, his attention finally pried away from the etchings on his desk. 

"Ah-- good point." Todd opened his backpack and leafed through a bunch of papers, finally coming across his unused English notebook. "Okay, I'm gonna think up some plans and write 'em down. Then, this weekend, we're gettin' our own gang." 

"Cool." 

* * * * * 

Saturday. The honking of a car horn woke Lance up. He sat up sleepily and rubbed his eyes. 

"What the hell...?" 

"Huh?" Pietro sluggishly murmured. 

"Are we expecting company?" 

"Nnnnope." Pietro rolled over and covered his face with a pillow. "I wanna go back to sleep. Stupid sunlight." 

"Come on," Lance replied, shoving Pietro gently and taking the pillow, "let's see who's outside." 

"Fine... Hey, what am I doing in your bed, anyway. Did we--?" 

"Does it _feel_ like we did? You just fell asleep here. Nothing happened." 

"Ah. Okay," Pietro muttered, sitting up with his eyes not-quite open. "Who the hell's out there?" 

The horn blared again as the person waiting outside grew more impatient. Lance shot a look to the window and shrugged. "I have no idea. Come on." 

Pietro grumbled irritably and got out of bed. Quickly, he cleaned up for the day and changed into some decent clothes. He was already at the door by the time Lance made his way down the stairs, still unshaven and in his boxers. 

"I'm sure Mystique would love to see you like that, Lance," Pietro commented. 

"You think she's out there?" 

"Probably. Who else comes to bother us on the weekend?" 

The two walked outside, finding Wanda lounging in an olive-green jeep instead of Mystique in her car. Lance eyed the vehicle with envy, the sad demise of his own car once more coming back to haunt him. Pietro merely wondered why she was driving around without a license. 

"Hey, Wanda. What are you doing here at this hour?" Pietro finally greeted as Lance continued to stare vengefully at the jeep. 

"'This hour'? It's noon. And I'm delivering a present, dear brother," she returned with a large smile. "Hey, Lance. Here." She yanked the keys out of the ignition and tossed them at Lance, who didn't take much notice and ended up getting hit in the face by the keys. 

"Ack!" He fumbled around and quickly retrieved them. 

"Sorry!" 

"Hey, that ain't fair! Why does Lance get a new car?" Todd suddenly griped, sauntering out of the house, followed by John and the massive form of Freddy. 

"Car? For me? That beautiful thing?" Lance asked, in a daze. He stared straight ahead, a stupid, happy smile planted on his face. "I love you." 

"Hey!" Pietro rapidly slapped Lance upside the head. 

"Don't love me," Wanda shrugged. "It's from Magneto. Well, I did have to give him a long, drawn out speech explaining how your having a car would benefit mutantkind... I never had to bullshit so much in my entire life." 

"Why didn't you ask Magneto to get _me_ a car?!" Todd whined. "Why'd Lance get one?!" 

"You can't even drive yet, stupid!" Pietro snapped. 

"But, I can drive," Fred countered. 

"Ditto," John agreed through a yawn. 

"Well, Pietro told me about Lance's dilemma. He asked me to convince my father to provide you guys with a new form of transportation. I only did it because he asked me to, so if you have any problems, yell at my brother," explained Wanda, hopping out of the jeep. "Having delivered this gift to you, there's now no way for me to get home, soooo, Lance, could you do me a favor?" she asked, batting her eyes helplessly at him. 

"Man, I can't resist you Maximoffs," Lance said, breaking out of his daze. "I can't wait to take this baby out on a test drive!" 

"You probably should get some clothes on, first, Lance," Pietro pointed out. 

"No, no. I'm gonna take you guys somewhere where we don't have to worry about clothes!" 

"A nude beach?" suggested John hopefully. 

"Er... no. The next best thing?" 

"A regular beach?" John tried, his voice bearing the slightest hint of dejection. 

"So... you're going to swim in your boxers?" asked Pietro dryly, arching an eyebrow. 

"Oh, wait, that wouldn't work. Guess I still have to go inside and change." 

"So, who all is going?" from Wanda. "You'd better take me, I delivered the jeep!" 

"Oh, I haven't thought about that, either." 

"You haven't thought of much," Pietro pointed out, grinning at Lance. "We can't take more than four people." 

"You're right. Todd, Freddy-- sorry, guys, but you're out." 

"What?!" 

"Man, don't worry about it," Todd said assuringly to Freddy. "We got our own plans, remember?" 

"Oh. Oh, yeah," Freddy nodded. "We got our own plans, so we don't need you losers!" 

"That's nice," Lance said sarcastically, going inside to change clothes. He was followed shortly by John and Pietro. 

"Hey! Don't forget, we have to stop by my place so I can change, too!" cried Wanda, following the boys inside. 

* * * * * 

Todd and Fred walked down the street, their minds set on their mission. It was pretty simple, really, as they weren't able to think of anything particularly complicated. 

The gist of it was this: there were some rumors going around the mutant world (or, specifically, Magneto and Mystique) about a group of underground freaky looking mutants. Neither Magneto or Mystique thought of them as anything important yet, so they didn't bother to do any recruiting. This left their membership open to Todd and Freddy, assuming the "mole people" even existed. 

Todd wondered how his two bosses would react when they learned of his amazing recruiting skills. He figured they'd probably appreciate him more and make him a more vital part of the team, instead of cannon fodder. Yup. They'd probably even hold him in higher regard than Lance and Pietro put together. 

That would be sweet. 

As Todd was left with his fantasies, Freddy thought about the beach and all the fun he could've been having. But, noooo, his so-called friends decided to ditch him under the premise that he wouldn't fit in the jeep with the rest of them. Ha! If only he could prove to them how very wrong they were! He could be a very compact Blob if he wanted to. Yeah... Oh well, they didn't know what fun they were missing. Scouting the city for a good manhole was much more fun than it sounded! 

Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Freddy. 

"You know, this would be easier if we had that jeep... This walking stuff is just too slow," Fred suddenly said, breaking the silence. 

"Huh?" Todd shook away his thoughts and said, "Yeah, but we don't got the jeep, so don't whine-- hey! There's a good one! And no one's really around to stop us." 

"I wonder what the others are doing right now..." 

"Hey, Earth to Freddy. Help me lift this thing, will ya?" 

"Okay," Freddy shrugged, and easily accomplished the task. "How am I gonna get down there?" 

"You're gonna-- I never really thought about that." Todd stood at the entrance to the sewers and stared down the hole thoughtfully. "I guess you're just gonna have to stand watch." 

"Uh, you sure these guys aren't gonna attack you or nothin'?" 

Todd made a dismissive noise and said, "I doubt it. Wish me luck, yo." 

"Um, good luck." 

And with that, Todd Tolensky jumped down into the sewers, in search of the underground, possibly non-existent, mutants while Fred waited. 

It was a few hours (and a couple of hotdogs provided by nice vendors) later when Freddy heard a shriek coming from the sewers. 

"Todd?" he asked. 

"_Shiiiiit!_" 

"Get the intruder!" came another voice from the depths of the sewers. 

"Shit, shit, shit!" from Todd. 

"Need any help?" 

In a flash, Todd had managed to climb out of the sewers and scurried around to hide behind Freddy. "Hurry! Put that thing back on the manhole! _Now, man!_" 

Freddy complied easily and turned to face Todd. "What happened?" 

"Turns out they already have a leader," Todd gasped. "They want nothin' to do with the Brotherhood. Fuckin' Morlocks." 

"Huh?" 

"That's what they called themselves. Man, here I thought we'd be doin' them a favor, you know? I mean, they're shunned by humanity, kinda like us... I thought they'd be perfect candidates for the Brotherhood." 

"So, they do exist?" 

Todd glowered at Freddy and began to walk away. "No, Fred, those were just sewer rats attackin' me and screaming about intruders." 

"What are we gonna do now? We don't have our own recruits, so this was all for nothin'!" 

"I dunno. Man, if it wasn't for that stupid one-eyed bitch, I bet they would've joined us." 

"Hey, wanna get a pizza?" 

"Okay, sure. We got nothin' else to do." 

* * * * * 

"Ow, ow, ow! I think I got a sunburn!" 

"Well, stop poking at it, Pietro," Wanda scolded. "I don't understand why you refused to put any sunscreen on." 

"It didn't cross my mind, okay?" he retorted irritably. 

"Want me to kiss them and make it all better?" Lance offered, his face bearing a hungry grin. 

"That'll just hurt like a bitch, and then I'll have to kill you." 

"Where's John with the food?" Wanda suddenly inquired. "He's been gone for a while." 

"He probably took off with the jeep," Pietro laughed, leaning back into Lance's arms. They were all sitting around the beach, watching the sun set in an extremely sappy display of lack-of-anything-better-to-do. Well, John wasn't sitting around. He ended up drawing the short straw; therefore, he was sent out to get some food. 

"He will die slowly and painfully if he steals Charlene." 

"Charlene?" 

"I took the liberty of naming her." 

"Ah..." 

"Lines. Are. Hell," John growled, approaching them with food in hand. "Taco Bell at this hour? Not a smart move." 

"Should've just picked a better place like _I_ suggested," Pietro replied triumphantly. 

"Ahh, shaddup," John answered with good-nature, dropping the bag onto the sand. "Get your grub, kiddies." Immediately, the three hungry teens leafed through the contents of the bag, grabbing their respective meals and leaving John's untouched. He took a seat beside Wanda and took the remainder of the food. 

It was one of those rare moments of peace for them. None of them were quarreling or worrying about Brotherhood matters and the X-Men. For the time being, they were just four kids hanging around the beach after a long day of beach-activity and acting obnoxious. 

It was good to be young. 

"Is this real cheese?" 

"Just eat the damn chip, Pietro. You're so picky." 

"I'm not entirely picky. I was just wondering... Hey, what if it got all over you? I wouldn't mind licking it up," he purred in an attempt to sound seductive. He then burst out laughing. "Actually, I would. Do you know how gross that would really be?" 

"I'd rather not think about getting drowned in Taco Hell nacho cheese. Now eat," he demanded, forcing the chip in the other boy's face. 

"'ey, I thought you agreed not to act all-- er, like _that_ in front of me," John protested. 

"If you can throw yourself all over my sister, then I can play with my _boyfriend_," Pietro returned, taking the liberty to draw out the word "boyfriend" in order to further annoy Allerdyce. 

"Yeah. Besides, this is probably our first time out of the house where we're able to smooch and cuddle in public and it won't matter because no one from school's here. I think," Lance said. 

"Okay, this is a segue, but have those Xavier kids been acting suspicious and weird around you, John? Like trying to subtlely ask questions about involvement in the Brotherhood?" asked Wanda, changing the subject with her question. 

"For a day or two, I guess. I just put up a big, clueless front, plus their Cerebellum thingie won't detect me if I don't use my powers, right?" 

"That's what Mystique says," Lance affirmed. "So, they just think you're one of our non-mutant buddies?" 

"I suppose. It's drivin' me nuts, not being able to use my powers at all. At least you guys get to use yours a little bit without 'aving to worry. Anyway, why'd you ask, Wanda?" 

"Just wondering. They probably know I'm a mutant if they've been using Cerebro, since I've been training a lot with Father. It's just that they went from being nice people to some hostile jerks after finding out that I'm related to the big, bad Quicksilver." 

"Big, bad, and burnt. Ahh, burns. I wish I could burn things... Damn Mysti. Why do I 'ave to be the secret weapon?! They won't be surprised at all if I fight with you guys, considering that they know I hang out with you!" 

"But they will be-- uh-- Maybe we should bring that point up to her next time," Lance suggested. 

"I think it would add an element of surprise. They can't prove you're a mutant, and they have no idea what your powers are even if they did suspect you to be one of us," Pietro pointed out. 

"Yeah. They'll get a nasty surprise when they have a run-in with _Pyro_," John muttered, though he seemed a bit more optimistic. "Can't wait for my first mission, I can _finally_ wreak some havoc on this miserable place!" 

"Hey, Wanda, you know Mags on a personal level. What does he have in mind for our next assignment?" asked Lance. 

"I don't know. He's rarely ever _home_, you know. He's started some really big project, that's all I know. Calls it 'Sanctuary', and 'preparation'." 

"Preparation for what?" 

"I dunno. World domination?" she joked half-heartedly. "I think he knows how the Washington events are going to turn out. He's probably working on a place for mutants to be safe, you know? Anyway, that's my guess on the situation." 

"I wonder what part we'll have in 'Sanctuary'," Pietro mused. He shut his eyes and thought for a bit, ignoring the others as they continued to talk. "Hey, John," he said suddenly, cutting of Lance in the middle of a sentence. 

"What?" 

"Did you get our drinks?" 

A pause. 

"Damn it!" 

* * * * * 

Another Monday morning. Another morning meeting. This time, however, it was just between Magneto and Mystique. 

"I'm honored you decided to pop up," Mystique commented dryly. 

"Mystique, what did you call on me for?" 

"I just want to know when we'll be back in action, Magneto. All we're doing is sitting around and waiting!" 

"Don't concern yourself with my long-term plans. There's nothing for you and your boys to do just yet. Just lay low for right now." 

"Then what was the point of recruiting Allerdyce and revealing Wanda?!" 

"More soldiers for our army, Mystique. As long as Xavier is gaining recruits, we must do the same. When the time is right, we will strike, and the X-Men won't know what hit them." 

"We could strike right now." 

"And risk losing everything? Humans are becoming aware of mutants, and a battle between the X-Men and our Brotherhood will surely draw some attention. They aren't ready yet to face the intolerance of man. Once they've trained more and we've expanded, then they'll be able to attack." 

"Attack who? The X-Men, or mankind?" 

"Whichever one gets in our way." 

"I see..." She tapped her fingers against her desk, absorbing this information. As she did this, the powerful mutant began to take his leave. "Oh, Magneto?" 

"What?" 

"There's something that you should probably know about your dear son Pietro." 

"What about him?" A hint of irritation was in his voice. 

"I stumbled in on him-- ah, how should I put this?-- 'pleasuring' young Avalanche." 

"Pleasuring? What are you--?" 

"They've been carrying on an affair, Magneto. Your son and Avalanche." 

"His social life doesn't concern me as long as it doesn't affect his performance in battle." 

Not quite the reaction she was hoping for. "But-- but-- What he's doing is--" 

"That's enough, Mystique," he cut in firmly. Ignoring her, he left the office and started for home. It was then that the information actually sank in and hit him with full force. "Wait a minute... My son... and another boy? My son is gay?!" 

* * * * *

A/N: Wasn't that wonderfully bad? Haha. I feel sick. Anyway, I promise (or attempt to promise) that the next chapter will be better! This one wasn't very inspired, but I'll put much more effort into the next chapter, seeing as how it will be the last. Mwahahaaa! Actually, I'm looking forward to writing the sequel. This story has me all humored out, so it'll be good to return to my *bum bum bummmmm* angsty roots! Or maybe I'll just keep it as humor. Whatever. 

Oh, while I'm rambling, I'm going to ADVERTISE! Today, out of sheer boredom, I created an X-Men: Evolution slash ML! Yay! Erm, so out of morbid curiosity, I'm going to post the link and see how many people will actually join it. ^_^;; 

[EvolutionSlash (clever name, no?)][1]

Oh, and to conclude today's babbling, I'm just going to say that the Morlock thingie was added in for lack of any other idea. The chances of me actually bringing them into the story (in person, anyway) are non-existent. Oh, and the Mystique and Magneto scene was thrown together hastily in my attempt to finally give the guy a response to the affair. I didn't actually come up with his reaction, though, a friend of mine suggested it. And as for the Asteroid M thing, I'm making it so that at this point in the story, Magneto is still in the process of constructing it. Yay! I love screwing with the Evolution timeline! 

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/evolutionslash



	8. The Last Dance

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own these characters. That's kinda obvious because this is FANFICTION.net. As in, FANFICS. As in, I don't own anyone here. (I'm not even gonna bother changing this anymore :D) Oh yeah, and the song lyrics belong to Aerosmith and the Proclaimers. 

A/N: This is it, the last chapter. Um, as it is the last chapter, it's much longer (as in possibly over 8 pages longer than Chapter 7, the previous longest chapter :p That would be 17 pages with size 10 Times New Roman. Pointless information) than the others. Actually, I did that by accident... 

Anyway, a BIG thanks to my beta-reader The Infernal Jynk, as well as my old beta-reader Morwin Weird (my sistah, yo :p Okay, not really, but we had to play the Weird Sisters and... yeah...). I find it ironic that she's a fan of Evolution now AFTER I switched beta-readers. Hehe, she likes Scott and Kurt (and I believe her reaction when I showed her "Survival of the Fittest" was "You like him [Lance]?!" *g*). 

Also, I would like to thank everyone for their reviews, which probably spurred me to write more of this fic. People are probably wondering why I'm making such a big deal about this, well it's because this is the first time I've EVER finished a multi-chapter story (and it's also the first time I've ever finished a non-parody fanfic), as I usually lose interest in my stories before I finish. So, this is a big milestone for me (maybe now I can finish that damn novel...). 

Anyway, I'm keeping you from the fic if you're still reading this, so read on! Warning, there's a karaoke bar in this chapter *shudder*. I hope this chapter makes up for the utter crap that was Chapter 7. :D 

**Chapter 8: The Last Dance**

It was always the same. Fire, stakes, nooses. Kill them any way possible. Screaming, curses, words that he knew but couldn't quite place. A language so familiar, but so foreign to him. Warm bodies huddled together as their family was lynched-- beaten, burned, or hung-- killed in the most convenient manners. 

_"I'll protect you."_

Cursed vagrants and rogues. Kill them all. Backwards people attacking those who were different. He held onto his sister and pulled her closer to him. 

_"I'll protect you, Sister."_ He understood the words, even though he didn't know the language. 

They closed in, shouting, jeering, and throwing rocks. He cried as he was struck on the back, and tightened his hold on his sister. Couldn't lose her. Couldn't let her get hurt. He braced himself for more pain as they moved in. 

And that was when the cloaked figure arrived on the scene. 

* * * * * 

"You look like shit, Pietro," Todd observed with a slight grin. 

"Eh." 

"Wow. You look like you haven't slept in weeks," John noted as he looked up from the newspaper article he was reading, his voice a little concerned. "You feelin' okay?" 

"Yeah. Fine," Pietro shrugged, poking his head into the refrigerator and looking around for some breakfast. "Where's the food?" 

"Ask Blob. Wasn't it your turn to get groceries yesterday?" asked Todd. 

"Oh... Forgot. I'll get to it today," Pietro murmured as he pulled an apple out of the fridge. "Where's Lance?" 

"He went out," answered John , turning his attention back to the paper. 

"Really? Taking the jeep for another joy ride?" 

"You could say that. Hey, maybe you should go back to bed. You don't look too well." 

"I don't need any more sleep," Pietro snapped, finishing off his apple and throwing the core away. "I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than fine. I just need to run around a bit. Being cooped up in this house is driving me crazy!" He quickly slipped on a pair of sneakers that was by the door. "I'll be back in a few hours." 

He was gone as soon as the words left his mouth. 

"I guess it's too late to tell him those were my shoes," John muttered after Pietro's flashy exit. He shrugged and went back to reading about the mutant controversy in Washington. 

A short while later, the front door creaked open and Lance peeked in apprehensively. 

"Hey, uh... is he awake yet?" 

"Yeah. Awake and gone," Todd replied, hopping down from his chair. "What's up?" 

"Did you get it?" John asked. 

"No. Couldn't figure out his size," Lance answered with a scowl. He strolled into the kitchen and plopped down into the chair previously occupied by Todd. "He's so damn skinny! It's hard to find one in his size, especially when I don't know what his size is!" 

"Should've just gone with my idea, man." 

"Which bright idea would that be, John?" Lance retorted irritably. 

"Just steal one of his shirts and a pair of his pants, and take 'em over to the place. I'm sure those stuffy pricks'll figure out what'll fit him." 

"That's so crazy it just might work..." Lance said carefully, rubbing his chin in a way to emphasize just how thoughtful he was feeling. 

"You think you'll have it in time?" 

"Yeah. What about you, John? Did you ask Wanda yet?" 

"Yup. Er, no. I mean-- kinda," he replied. "I sort of slipped the question ever so sneakily into a story I loaned her. And if that doesn't work, I have Plan B." 

Lance nodded like it was quite a practical idea, whereas Todd blinked. The clothes idea and the story thing sounded like some of those stupid schemes that Lance was prone to creating. No wonder the two were such good friends... And they thought _he_ was the idiot? Personally, he thought it would've been easier for both parties to just ask their respective dates instead of sneaking around and coming up with insane plans. 

"You know what just occurred to me, Lance?" John said suddenly. 

"What?" 

"We used to joke around about datin' twins together. And now we are, but not in the way I saw it happenin'." He laughed. 

"I didn't even think about that. And you've been dating Wanda for how long now?" 

"Well, if we're going by the beach date... three weeks, give or take some days. Tonight I'm gonna take her out to a karaoke bar." 

"That's terrible! What did she ever do to you?" 

"Hey! It'll be quite romantic! You wanna come with? We can double. You can watch me make an ass of myself." 

"I don't think so," Lance answered, shaking his head. "Pietro and I on a date in a public place? I don't think that'll work quite yet. Especially with what I have in mind... Besides, I see you act like an ass all the time." 

"You two can go as friends, then. Guys go to bars together as pals all the time. _Come onnn_," he whined. "I don't wanna do the song alone! It's a duet-- well, it doesn't have to be, but it sounds better as a duet!" 

"Then make Wanda sing with you!" 

"I'm goin' to be singin' the song _to_ her, you great poof. It doesn't work that way if she's singin' it with me." 

"Oh, all right. Fine. I'll try to talk Pietro into coming. What song is it, by the way?" 

"An oldie, but a goodie. I'm sure you haven't heard it in years." 

Todd watched the two with bafflement. Okay, so he lacked severely in the hygiene department, but how in the world could those two morons get dates, while he couldn't even get a girl to willingly stand within a five foot radius of him for more than ten minutes?! 

It was a mystery that he was going to have to unravel on his own time. 

* * * * * 

"Shit! John's gonna kill me!" Pietro muttered as he walked into the mall rather awkwardly. His hair was ruffled, his clothes were a little dirty, and he just wore out the shoes he was wearing, finding out almost immediately after they fell apart that they weren't even his. So, dirty, messy, and shoeless, he journeyed to the mall in order to replace the sneakers he was no longer wearing. 

_I must look like some crazy runaway kid..._

As he tried to find a shoe store, he noticed that many stiff older people were giving him strange looks and trying to stay out of his general path. People who recognized him from school just stared at him with confusion, before shrugging it off. After all, Pietro Maximoff or one of his stupid friends were always doing something horribly strange. 

Pietro stopped and stared at the store he found himself standing before. Shoes galore. But what was he looking for? Were the shoes Sketchers? Or were they Vans? Or were they just some cheap brandless shoes? Crap! He couldn't remember! 

He was even starting to forget what the damn things looked like. 

"Okay, Pietro, think," he mumbled to himself, casually strolling into the place. Some people eyed him uneasily, which he found strange. What better place could a kid with no shoes be than a shoe store? They had no reason to stare at him funny! Maybe it was because he was talking to himself... "If I was a rich Australian guy, what would _I_ wear? Oooh! Flip-flops!" 

Oh, the tragedy of the easily distracted. 

Pietro rushed over to the not-quite shoes and giggled. It wasn't that he was ever going to _wear_ flip-flops, he just thought they were funny. 

If he didn't look crazy before, he certainly did now, walking around talking to himself and giggling at footwear. 

"Can I help you... sir?" an employee of the store inquired hesitantly, approaching him cautiously like he was a dog with rabies. 

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I need expensive sneakers." 

"What brand?" the man asked rather skeptically. Pietro didn't exactly look like the kind of guy who could afford much at the moment. 

"Um... a good one?" 

"I... see... Are you sure those flip-flops won't suffice?" 

Hm, apparently the man wanted to get him out of there before he could threaten to attack people with plastic spoons or something crazy like that. 

_I don't look _that_ insane... do I?_

Pietro swiped some of his hair out of his face and shook his head. "I ruined a pair of my friend's shoes while jogging, and I need to replace them before he finds out." 

"But you don't know what brand they are?" 

"Nope." Pietro shook his head vibrantly. He was starting to feel extremely giddy. It was most likely because he stopped to get a coke before entering the mall, and now it was taking its affect. That was probably a mistake... 

"Well, what did they look like?" 

"I don't remember," Pietro giggled. 

The man groaned. This was going to take a while. "You don't remember what the shoes looked like? Then how am I supposed to help you?" 

"I haven't really thought of that," Pietro answered with a silly grin. _Maybe Lance was right when he said I shouldn't have caffeine._ "I guess I'll just get something for myself, then. Oh, and I'll get the flip-flops. Yeah. Maybe he won't notice that those aren't his real shoes..." 

"Okay..." 

* * * * * 

It was a significant amount of time later when Pietro finally decided on what he wanted. With his new purchases in hand (well, one in hand and the other on his feet), he strolled out of the store and wondered about his next destination. 

_Well, I have to get groceries. Or, I could use the remaining money and buy myself something nice! Or I could get Lance something-- naah, screw him. Hmm, I really wanna screw him. Stupid sexual tension._

His thoughts were bouncing around in a manner much akin to one of those crazy super-bouncy balls that he used to throw at people when he was a kid. Suddenly, however, all bouncing ceased as his eyes caught a familiar and unpleasant sight. 

_Why, oh why, do those stupid X-Men have to be here today? Of all the days, too, they had to pick the one where I'm not looking my Sunday best._

Pietro blinked at his own mental comment. _That doesn't make too much sense, I don't even go to church, so I really don't have any reason to ever look my 'Sunday best'. Oh well._

He watched them discreetly, wondering how conspicuous he seemed standing right in front of the shoe store with a rigid look on his face. He then took notice that the male members of their team were missing. 

_Oh, wait, it's only the X-Chicks. Guess it's kind of a girls' night out thing-- sans night. This could be fun..._

Throwing on a cocky demeanor, he strutted arrogantly up to the girls and threw his arm around Kitty's shoulders. 

"Hey, there," he purred, receiving many deadly glares in return. 

"Ew, like, get away from me, creep!" she squealed like a little girl who just found out that boys had the ever dangerous "cooties". Roughly, she pushed him away from her. How very rude of her. 

"Hey, now, I'm just trying to be friendly, Kitty-cat." 

"You? Friendly? Like, there's an oxymoron," the younger girl scoffed, rolling her eyes and pulling closer to her friends. 

"What are you doing here, Pietro?" Jean asked in that "I'm trying to sound friendly and mature, but I really just want you to go the hell away" voice. 

"Yeah, what do ya want from us?" Rogue questioned impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him. 

"What? Geez, get off of your high-horse. You think everything I do revolves around fighting you dorks?" 

"_Yes_," was the collective reply. 

"Well, it's not! I bought some shoes!" He brought up one foot and waggled it at them, attempting to balance on the other as he did. "See?" 

"So, you, like, bugged us just to show off your new shoes?" asked Kitty skeptically and dryly. 

"Nope. I bugged you just for the sake of bugging you," he grinned in return. 

"Idiot," Rogue muttered, then motioned to her friends. "Come on, let's go." 

The other two girls nodded and the trio started off, leaving Pietro grinning and trying to hold back laughter. Things were always funnier when hyperness and super-speed mixed. Then, an idea struck him and he quickly grabbed Rogue's arm. 

"What the-- let me go before Ah take mah gloves off!" 

"Take 'em off. Come on," he challenged. _Oh yes, this'll work out perfectly. She absorbs my powers, she'll get my memories, and then maybe I could get her to tell me about what happened back in Europe._ It had to be a surefire plan. Couldn't fail. Unless... 

_What if she gets my memories except for the ones about Europe? What if she refuses to tell me? What if I'm totally wrong about this whole thing?!_

Too late. He already started, might as well finish it. 

"Come on, Rogue," he said, pulling her closer to him. "I dare ya." 

Green eyes pierced into his own, and she lifted a hand-- 

_Yes!_

--and promptly slapped him. 

"Ow! Hey!" he cried, letting her go and clutching his cheek with one hand. "That hurt!" 

"You're a moron," she hissed, then turned and stormed away with her friends. 

"Hell, it was worth a shot," he muttered to himself, before going to the exit. Time to get some groceries and keep his mind away from his lousy half-memories and dreams. 

And he knew the perfect way to do it. 

Have more caffeine. 

* * * * * 

"...got it?" 

"Sir, I don't quite understand what you want." 

Pretentious prick. It wasn't that hard to understand, was it? He had a simple task for the man, and being humored and looked at like he was a total imbecile wasn't making him very happy. And he thought he'd made it clear before. "Okay. One more time. He's shorter than me. Taller than him. Got a slender build, and _look_, these are his clothes. The thing is, the sizes don't help because, well, you know these things are supposed to be kind of loose, but his clothes aren't. Do you need a picture to top it off? Taller than him--" He pointed a finger at Todd. "An' shorter than me. This isn't so hard!" 

"So... you want me to find one in his size? Why don't you just tell me his size?" 

"I thought we went through this." 

"Sir, it would be the same size as his shirt and pants. What do you need my help for?" the salesman questioned in that prim, cultured voice of his. 

"Because I don't think these sizes are right, especially if it's supposed to be kind of loose fitting! His clothes aren't loose fitting, so why would we use the same sizes?" 

"It'd be easier if you just brought your friend to try one on." 

"Yo, John, he's right," Todd agreed, eager to get out of the dull store. There was nothing there for him, anyway. 

"He's not right! We can't bring him here, else it'll ruin whatever Lance has in mind!" the older boy retorted firmly, raising his voice just slightly. 

"Sir, please calm down." 

"Oh, drop the 'sir' crap already, you lousy wanker." 

"Sir, I don't appreciate insults. If you really want me to help you, you should be more polite," the man replied too calmly for John's tastes. 

"If you weren't so bloody stupid--" 

"Again with the insults, sir." 

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" 

* * * * * 

Pietro returned home balancing three grocery bags in his arms. He was greeted with the sounds of Metallica (blaring out from some room loud enough to fill the whole house) and the vacuum cleaner-- a horrible combination of noise, in his opinion. 

"What the hell...?" he murmured, rushing to the kitchen and putting away the groceries in a matter of seconds. "What's going on?" he called, trying to raise his voice over the cacophony. "_Hey!_" 

Though his voice was raised significantly, he still got no reply. Scowling, he stormed up the stairs and ran right into a vacuum cleaner wielding Lance. "Ack!" 

"_Ah!_ Oh, hey," Lance said loudly, turning off the machine. 

The music was pounding into Pietro's skull by this point, and he covered his ears in hopes to protect his hearing. "Hey," he replied rather miserably. 

"What's wrong?" Lance inquired, his voice straining to be heard above the clashing instruments. 

"My head's going to explode." 

"Oh, sorry." Lance walked into his room and shut the stereo off. "Better?" 

"Ah-- yeah," Pietro said, adjusting to the newfound silence. "What's going on?" 

"Well, I'm cleaning the place." 

"You don't even clean your own room, Lance." 

"Yeah, well," Lance shrugged, "this place is a sty. It was starting to get unbearable, even to a slob like me. Anyway, John and Toad are out on an errand and Freddy's... uh... I don't know where he is, so I thought I could use some music to keep me company." 

"How can you listen to that and _not_ go deaf?" 

"I've built up an immunity. Oh, by the way, we're going out tonight." 

"Huh?" a dumbfounded Pietro replied. 

"We. Are. Going. Out," Lance repeated slowly. 

"Oh-- uh-- why?" the still confused Pietro asked. 

"Because I have to help John hit on your sister-- ow! Okay, wrong choice of words! Sorry!" 

Pietro smirked at Lance, then returned to the conversation. "So, where are we going? I mean, you know, it'd be kind of weird to be out in public where people from school can--" 

"Don't worry, it's not an actual 'date'-- for us, anyway. We're just going to go as 'friends'-- ah, is that okay?" 

"Yeah, sure," Pietro shrugged carelessly. "But you still haven't told me where we're going." 

"Oh, yeah, that. Er, we're kinda goingToAKaraokeBar," Lance mumbled quickly, hoping Pietro wouldn't catch what he was saying. 

"No." Hm, apparently talking faster wasn't the smartest way to try to trick a speed demon. 

"Oh, come on--" 

"_No way_. A karaoke bar?! What's he smoking?!" 

"I'll have to ask him that. He swears he's going to be doing something romantic. Come on, Pietro, at least you won't have to _sing_! I promised him that I'd sing with him, though, so..." 

"So go with him. Why do I have to be there?" 

"So that I don't become the third wheel." 

"The Third Wheel. Sounds kind of like a new super-villain." 

"Yes. He follows couples on dates and makes them feel really uncomfortable. You wouldn't want me to become him, would you?" Lance teased, slipping his arms around Pietro and forgetting about his vacuuming. 

"I suppose not. Okay, fine, I'll go with you. But don't expect me not to hide in shame when you sing." 

"Come to think of it, you've never heard me sing, have you?" 

"Nope, and I don't want to. Considering your taste in music, I'd assume you're standards of good singing are pretty low." 

"Ouch, Pietro," Lance said, feigning hurt. He released the smaller boy and grabbed the vacuum-cleaner again. "Care to help me finish cleaning?" 

"Yeah, sure, lemme change first," Pietro replied as he walked into his room. "And clean up, though not necessarily in that order," he added. He peered into his closet and looked through his clothes. "Hey... my favorite shirt's missing!" 

Lance quickly turned on the vacuum cleaner and pretended he didn't hear Pietro. 

"Lance! Hey, do you know where my favorite shirt is?" 

Lance whistled to himself, still playing deaf. Hurriedly, he finished up the hall and tried to get started on the stairs, when the extension cord tightened and pulled out of the outlet. "Crap!" he exclaimed, steadying himself so as to not fall down the stairs and injure himself. 

"Lance?" Pietro poked his head out from his room and laughed, his shirt temporarily forgotten. "Geez, Lance, watch what you're doing." He went back into his room and changed into other clothes. 

Lance sighed in relief and dragged the machine down the stairs to get started on the living room. A flash of white sped past him and he watched in amazement as the windows suddenly found themselves cleaner than they've ever been since the Brotherhood moved in. 

"Aren't you lucky you have me?" Pietro purred in his ear before running into the kitchen to do the dishes. 

"I'm the luckiest man alive," Lance chuckled, plugging in the vacuum cleaner and continuing the task at hand. 

* * * * * 

"I can't believe you dragged me here, Allerdyce," Wanda said playfully as her boyfriend pulled out a chair for her. 

"I can't believe you actually agreed to come, luv. Here I thought I'd be stuck with just Lance and Pietro. Ever hear Lance sing?" 

Wanda shook her head. "Thankfully, no. So, they're going to meet us here?" 

"Yup," he affirmed, taking his own seat. He glanced over at the stage and scowled. "Bloody hell, that woman's warbling is gonna drive me mad. I hope she's almost done." 

"My heart will go _onnnnnnn_!" was the response from the stage. 

"Doesn't sound like it," Wanda answered with a grin. 

"Damn. So, how'd you like my story?" 

"It's great! I hope you can get it published." John scoffed in return. "Oh, come on, Allerdyce, you know you've got a talent. It was so beautiful. Well, all except for the last line... that didn't make much sense. I mean, 'Will you go to the prom with me?' in the Victorian era? That's a pretty big anachronism." 

"Yeah, it was out of place, wasn't it?" he agreed in a slightly surly voice. 

"Well, minds do tend to wander while writing, and the prom is coming up-- maybe you were just thinking about that when you were typing it up." 

"Gettin' warmer." 

"Huh?" 

"I said 'gettin' warmer'. There's a method to my madness, luv." 

"And here I thought everything you did was totally random." She leaned closer to him, smiling almost seductively. "So, the question-- was it for me?" she asked softly, her warm breath against his ear, her lips almost pressing against his skin. 

It took all of his will power to turn his face to meet hers and not capture those tantalizing lips in his. "Maaaybe," he drawled teasingly. 

"In that case, yes, I'll go to the prom with you, St. John Allerdyce." 

"Knew you couldn't resist me." He pressed his lips against hers, then saw Lance and Pietro enter the building from behind Wanda. 

"Is this what you brought me here for?" she asked, pulling her mouth away from his just enough to speak. 

"Nope," he answered, standing up. "I brought you here to embarrass you, sweet." He grinned at her, then bounded over to Lance, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him over to a man standing beside the stage, leaving a very confused Pietro and Wanda. 

"That was..." Pietro started, but couldn't quite think of a word to say, as he stole John's seat. 

"Our boyfriends are weird," Wanda sighed in return to her brother. 

Pietro nodded a bit absently, his mind in many places at once. Mostly, he was thinking about his missing clothes. He also wondered how he was going to break it to John that he destroyed his shoes-- _oh! but I bought you flip-flops to replace the probably expensive sneakers! Huh? Don't look at my feet. No, those aren't new shoes I'm wearing, what makes you think that?_

Then there was his nightmare problem. So far, the only person who knew about it was Wanda, but she wasn't much help. She wasn't having the same problem, and there was nothing she could tell him about their pre-America years that he didn't already experience in deam-land. Her only advice was: "Sometimes repressed memories can be triggered later in life by people or events." 

It was good to have a sister in psychology class. 

"What do you think they're going to sing?" asked Wanda, bringing Pietro's attention back to the horrid little karaoke bar. 

"Oh, I don't know. Lance doesn't even know, apparently." Pietro paused, then changed the subject as another thought crossed his mind. "He's been acting strange lately... I mean, more than he usually does. He's always going out now. Think he's having an affair?" 

Wanda shook her head. "Why would he?" 

"Because he's not getting any from me," Pietro shrugged. "Well, there was one time I launched myself at him... and then _he_ turned _me_ down!" 

"I think Lance is just an erratic little nut. He's your perfect match." 

"Ha, ha. Cute, sis. Oh, hey, they're getting on stage." 

The twins turned their attention to the platform at the other end of the bar as John practically skipped onto the center and Lance trudged gloomily along behind him. 

"I wonder what song he's going to try to embarrass me with," Wanda mused as she watched her boyfriend with dreamy eyes. 

"This song is dedicated to the cute chick in the back-- I've always wanted to say that. Love ya, Wanda." 

His sister flushed and covered her mouth with her hands-- either hiding her smile or trying to hold back a giggling fit-- while Pietro was hit with a tough realization. 

_We've been dating for two months now, and I've never told him-- well, he hasn't told me, either. What if he doesn't really feel that way about me? What if this is all just some "experiment" for him, and he's just going to go back to girls? What if-- Argh! Too many "what ifs"!_

Pietro shook his head and focused back on the spectacle. As the song began, he almost immediately recognized it as "500 Miles" by the Proclaimers, a song he hadn't heard in a few years. John sang the song (better than Pietro had expected), adding in his own little comments here and there, while Lance attempted to do backup. Despite Pietro's expectations, Lance wasn't _as_ horrendously terrible as everyone had given him credit for-- of course, at this point in the song, Lance's only job so far was to provide one word here or there. He allowed himself to grin, noticing how much fun the two on stage were having and the utter amusement his sister was deriving from the scene. 

_"If I get drunk, yes I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.  
And if I haver-- _and you know I do that a lot_-- yeah I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you!" _

"Dear God," Wanda chuckled. 

"I'm glad my boyfriend's not as crazy as yours." 

"Think again." 

By this point, it was Lance's turn to join in and do the chorus. Even though he was now throwing in more than one mere word, he still wasn't _as_ bad as expected. 

_"But I would walk 500 miles  
And I would walk 500 more  
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles  
To fall down at your door!" _

Pietro blinked. _Maybe if I close my eyes and pretend it's just Lance singing, I could maybe feel like this song's actually for me. Wow, you're such a sentimental fool, Maximoff._

_"--and if I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be  
I'm gonna be the man who's growin' old with you." _

Once again, he had to force himself to focus his attention back to the events going on onstage. He felt kind of stupid for taking the little song so seriously, when apparently no one else was. The other patrons seemed to enjoy watching the two on stage, and Wanda especially was having a good time. Of course, she had a right to, as the song was being sung to her. 

The tune went on, and as it neared the end, Lance finally seemed to loosen up much more and started to (_Dear God_) get into it. 

_"--just to be the man who walked 1000 miles  
to fall down at your do-o-or!" _

As the 80's hit ended, the audience actually cheered, though Pietro wasn't sure if this was because: the two actually performed well (_Naah_), they were glad it ended (_Possibly_), or they simply enjoyed watching the boys act silly in front of a crowd (_Most likely_). 

Allerdyce and Alvers jumped off of the stage and returned to their dates, both grinning stupidly. 

"You liked?" 

Wanda rolled her eyes and hugged John. "That was the worst singing ever." 

"Really?" Lance asked, an almost-genuine, but probably imaginary, tinge of hurt in his voice. 

"Of course not. You've never heard Father sing." 

"Magneto...?" Lance started with an absolute look of horror on his face. 

"Sings...?" Pietro finished, an equally horrified expression gracing his features. 

Wanda nodded, then put a finger to her lips. "Tell no one." 

"I promise I won't tell if you find a way to keep these lips o' mine sealed," John said in a voice that could've easily been followed by: *nudge, nudge, wink, wink* "Say no more!" 

"What a simple task. You really don't present me with very many challenges, Johnny," she cooed in return and promptly began to "seal his lips". 

"Argh," Lance muttered (or it was something akin to that), catching Pietro's attention. He almost forgot that "Argh!" was Lance's special "thing"; it had been a while since Lance had randomly burst out with that exclamation. "C'mon," he instructed, tugging at Pietro's arm, "let's get some drinks so these lovebirds can be alone. By the way, anything with caffeine is out of the question!" 

"Aww..." 

* * * * * 

His mother was the first one killed. Well, the first one he noticed, anyway. She was beaten and then stoned to death. His father tried to protect as many people as possible, and was quickly lost in the flurry of screaming villagers and curses. Everyone was under attack; everyone was fair game. 

As his grandmother helped him and his sister hide, she uttered the words: 

"_Jekh dilo kerel but dile hai but dile keren dilimata._" 

Whatever the hell that meant. He could hear her raspy voice, see the resolved look on her haggard old face, but he couldn't understand the words-- not anymore. 

Still, he and his sister nodded fervently, hoping that if they were perhaps better children, their dear grandmother wouldn't leave them like their parents just had. 

No such luck. With those last words and two final kisses, she turned and was out of their lives like the rest of their family. Now, they only had each other. 

His sister's small hand clutched his tightly, and she whispered, "Pietro." 

"Hm?" 

"Pietro." 

"Huh?" 

"Pietro!" 

"Gah!" His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring directly up at Lance. A tired, messy haired, stubbly Lance. "Lance?" He sat up, clutching the cotton bed-sheet to his chest as he did, and stared at his boyfriend's face. "What's up?" 

"Well, nothing, at first. Then you started thrashing. Then you kicked me off of the bed. _Then_ you started mumbling in some crazy language. You didn't look like you were having sweet dreams... You okay?" 

"Peachy. Never been better," Pietro muttered. 

Lance sighed and climbed back into bed, then wrapped his arms around the slender mutant's torso, pulling him closer. "You didn't sound _peachy_, and you don't look it either. Something's wrong." 

"It's nothing." 

"Bull shit!" 

"Drop it! I wanna go back to sleep." 

"Uh uh. Not until you tell me what's been up with you this past week and a half. You look like you've been dragged through hell and back. You think I haven't noticed?" 

Pietro tugged out of Lance's grasp and sank down onto the bed, rolling onto his side to avoid facing the dark-haired boy. He stared at the wall, trying to make out some of the band members on one of Lance's posters. 

"Pietro?" Lance prodded, not content with leaving the conversation where it was. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing. JustSomeStupidDreams," was the quick reply. 

"'bout what?" 

"Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" 

"Not until I know what's going on in your head." 

"How sweet," Pietro retorted dryly. 

"Yeah, well..." Lance put his arms around Pietro again and pulled him close, until their bodies were pressed together. "I love you." 

Pietro drew in a sharp breath and said nothing. 

"Pietro...? You heard me, right?" 

"I-- yes..." he admitted rather reluctantly. The gentle, comforting grip on him loosened a little. 

"And...?" 

"And..." _I want to say it. I wish I could._ He opened his mouth to say more (_Just say it. I love you. Fucking say it, Pietro!_), to return the words (_Come on, it's not so hard. I. Love. You. Say it._), but couldn't find the willpower to utter the words. "I-- I can't say that I love you, Lance." 

Lance stared at the back of Pietro's head in a numb shock, then blinked and swallowed. "Okay," he said, more shakily than he would've preferred. "If that's how you feel." He removed his arms from Pietro's body and rolled onto his other side so that back was facing back. "'night, Pietro." 

Pietro blinked rapidly, then swiped at his eyes with his arm. He never cried. Pietro Maximoff hadn't cried since he was separated from Wanda all those years ago-- or, at least, that's what he liked to believe. The truth was, he had cried many times after that, but not in recent years. How long had it been since he last cried? _Fucking ages_, he thought bitterly, closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Lance." 

* * * * * 

It was Friday. The Senior Prom would be on Saturday. Lance already had the tickets, the suit, and the full-proof plan-- now all he needed was his date. That would be the tough part, considering how he and Pietro had been avoiding each other like the plague over the past week. 

Whether or not whatever was bothering Pietro before was still on his mind, he didn't know. He hadn't spoken more than four awkward words to the other boy since that night he so stupidly professed his love to someone who apparently didn't give a shit. 

Lance snarled in frustration and slammed his fist against a nearby locker, almost immediately regretting his actions as pain flared up in his hand. 

"Ah shit! _Fuuuuck_," he seethed, clutching his suffering hand. 

"Hey, Alvers, what the hell are you doing to my locker?!" 

Oops. He punched the wrong locker. "Oh, hey, _Summers_," he said, trying to put on a cool demeanor. "I was just venting-- hey, who are you taking to the prom?" 

"That's none of your business," the other boy said crossly as he examined his locker. 

"Ah ha! You couldn't get a date, could you?" Lance remarked triumphantly. Suddenly, his hand felt a lot better... 

"No, that's not the case. It's Jean, not that it's any of _your_ business, Alvers." 

"Ah... ha! You couldn't get a date your age, could you?" Lance attempted. 

Scott, content with the condition of his locker, arched his eyebrows in confusion. "Is something wrong? Your insults seem to be lamer than usual." 

"No, it's just-- you-- ah-- you're a loser! Yeah! Stupid... loser!" Lance snapped, stalking away. Suddenly, his hand felt a lot worse... 

He was on his way to his jeep, thankful that Pietro usually preferred to walk home. Sure, his being glad about it only made their rift a little larger, but it also meant not having to deal with that strange silence that was going on between him and Pietro. 

Lance never expected things to end that way-- for them to just grow apart like that. He figured that when their time as a couple was up, they'd break it off in a loud, huge fight, not by simply saying "Good night." 

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, and he suddenly jumped. 

"Jesus, Lance. Jumpy today?" 

"Lousy day. Lousy week, John, you know that." 

"I know," his friend said sympathetically, his hand still resting on Lance's shoulder. "Things'll get better if you just talk to him, you know." 

"I tried. He's being all weird and quiet around me, in case you haven't noticed," Lance snapped in return. 

"Okay, sorry. Hey, does this mean that Todd and I had to wait in that lousy store for nothin'?" 

"I guess," Lance answered with a shrug. "If you can't get a refund, I'll pay you back." 

"Oh, hell no. You don't know the shit I had to go through with that stupid clerk to get Speedy's suit! I don't care what it takes, you two are goin' to the bleedin' prom." 

"I'm glad you're so concerned," Lance scoffed sarcastically as the two made their way to the parking lot. 

"Anything for a friend." John stopped walking and said in a serious voice, "Hey, you know I really do care, right?" 

"Yeah, I know," Lance replied, offering a half-smile. "Thanks." 

"No problem. Now go mend that relationship of yours. I'll get Freddy and Todd and keep 'em preoccupied with somethin' so you two can be alone." 

"Thanks-- hey, about Freddy... I haven't seen him around much lately. Think he's up to something?" 

"Yeah, right, maybe he has a girlfriend," John laughed, shaking his head. 

"Ha, yeah, that's a pretty ridiculous idea." 

* * * * * 

Freddy and Todd approached the spot where Lance's jeep once was and stood in shocked, angry disbelief. 

"What the-- he did it again, yo! He just drove off without us!" Todd suddenly exploded angrily. 

"We should stop relying on him for rides," Fred replied. 

John, who was previously attempting to act totally shocked and casual at the same time said, "Oh well. Hey, let's go somewhere. Uh, like a buffet place, or somethin'," he said, eyeing Freddy. If he was going to pay for the guy to eat, he was at least going to go for an all-you-can-eat restaurant so that he wouldn't be completely broke on prom night. "It's on me." 

"You were in on this!" Todd accused. 

"Um... no, I wasn't!" 

"Yeah, you were! Man, I can't believe this!" 

_Stupid insightful little toad..._ John scowled and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Okay, maybe I was, but we're not going to the house for a while. Lance and Pietro need make-up time. So, do what you want, but goin' home's off-limits." 

"Okay," Freddy said passively with a shrug. "I got somewhere to be, anyway." And with that, he plodded away from the Aussie and the quasi-amphibian boy. 

"Okay, that's startin' to bother me. What _is_ he up to?!" John said immediately upon Freddy's departure. 

"I don't know, he won't tell me." 

"Hmm... We should give him his privacy, right?" 

Todd made a dismissive noise and said, "Screw privacy, man! Let's follow him!" 

John looked at the scrawny mutant and grinned. "Don't have to tell me twice." 

Chuckling sinisterly, the two boys began to sneakily follow Fred's trail. 

* * * * * 

After a while of inconspicuously trailing Freddy, the two were growing both bored and more curious about his plans. They were bored because _whatever it was_ that Fred was planning was taking quite a while. First, he slowly made his way to a Burger King, where he ate for a while, making John and Todd realize how hungry they were. But, they couldn't eat due to their mission at hand. 

After exhausting the employees but making the place significantly richer, he lumbered over to a park and picked a bunch of flowers. This seemingly "fruity" action confused the then sleepy mutants, making them more resolute on finding out his motive. 

Finally, their hard work, patience, and boredom paid off as they found the Blob walking to a slightly suburban neighborhood, flowers in hand. He approached an average looking two-story house, and rang the doorbell. 

A small, mousy-looking girl opened the door and beamed happily at the sight of the metabolically-challenged mutant, and she quickly ushered him inside. He seemed quite pleased by this, and the last thing the two saw before the door shut was Fred "the Blob" Dukes handing flowers to a delighted girl less than half his height. 

"What the...?" 

"Sweet Jesus!" 

"Well, I'll be damned," John muttered. "He really _does_ have a girlfriend!" 

"I know her! She's in my algebra class!" Todd exclaimed. "That's Amy Greene! She never talks to anyone, though..." 

"Hm, I've seen her eatin' lunch alone a lot of times." John shrugged and thrust his hands in his pockets. "Well, that was dull. Let's go get somethin' to eat." 

As the two boys trudged away, both wondered how the tiny, virtually friendless Amy Greene and the loud, crude Fred Dukes could've possibly gotten together. 

* * * * * 

As Todd and John experienced their misadventures in Freddy-Land, Lance apprehensively sat on the couch and watched the television on mute. He didn't care much for whatever the hell the hicks on Jerry Springer were currently babbling about-- all he cared about at the moment was getting things straight with Pietro. Everything was ready, now all he needed was Pietro. 

Finally, the front door opened, and he found himself staring at his boyfriend. 

"Hey. Took you a while," he greeted nervously, hoping his voice hadn't sounded forced. 

"I walked." 

"I know, but with you-- well, you know, walking's usually faster than that." 

Pietro avoided looking at Lance and shrugged. "I wanted to take my time." 

Lance stood up and approached Pietro. "Um... I left something for you-- in your room, that is. I left something for you in your room." 

Pietro stared at Lance for a moment, then nodded. "All right." He walked around Lance and made his way up the stairs, stopping when he came to his doorway. Lance followed. 

"That is..." Pietro walked into his room and stopped beside his bed. He brought his hand down on the suit that awaited him-- white, probably expensive-- and the ticket that lay on top of it. He caressed the fabric slowly, then said: "What's this for?" 

"For the prom. I kinda figured you couldn't possibly turn me down if I just dropped it on you last minute," Lance answered, chuckling nervously. "So, you like? I had John and Todd pick it out, so I don't really know if it's your size or even good-- I mean, I went and just rented my own suit, but this was bought and--" 

"You're babbling," Pietro cut in, smiling. He put the ticket in his pocket, then picked up the suit and hung it in his closet. "Of course I want to go with you. I'd hate to think about the havoc you'd wreak without me." 

"'Want to' go, but aren't, huh," Lance grumbled dejectedly. 

"Never said that, doofus. I want to go, of course, but what about--" 

"Fuck everyone else!" Lance snarled. "This is about you and me having fun at the last dance of the year. Man, I fucking hate school dances, but I just want to do this so bad, you know? I just want to take you out, _for once_, in this freakin' area!" 

Pietro stared at him with widened eyes, and Lance wondered then if he had paled or not. It was kind of hard to tell, considering how light Pietro's skin was in the first place. "Well, when you put it that way..." 

"Yes?" Lance asked hopefully. 

"Yeah, yes. A big 'yes'. ABigIWannaDoThisWithYouAndHopefullyWeCanFuckAfterwardsYes!" Pietro said quickly, grinning to himself as Lance tried to decipher his words. 

"Um... okay," Lance replied with some perplexity as he gave up trying to translate "Pietro Speak". "I don't really have any more money, since I had to spend it on my own suit and the tickets-- and I had to borrow from John-- so... Um, we're just gonna take the jeep, is that okay?" 

"Limousines are so overrated, anyway." 

"I hope you think dinner's overrated, too, because I don't have enough to take us out, unless McDonalds is your kind of place for a romantic dinner." 

"For you, I'll pretend that dinner's overrated, too. Maybe I can cook something, 'kay?" 

Lance snatched Pietro in his arms and held him close, trying to catch up on their lost week. "'kay," he murmured contentedly in return, and that was it. Their week-long "argument" was at an end without them even mentioning it. 

* * * * * 

Things were always easier said than done. Pietro learned this his own way-- through mistakes and last-minute changes of mind. So far, the evening went on without a hitch. He had made steak, the easiest, non-microwaveable meal he could think of. Lance didn't seem to mind this (even though his was slightly charred), as a meal was a meal and also much better than anything they could've gotten at McDonalds or the Wal-Mart food court (which they had considered, though only briefly). 

By the time they were finished eating dinner, it was 9:00, and the dance had already started an hour ago. Cursing, the two scrambled into Lance's jeep (which he thankfully no longer called Charlene) and sped over to the rather nice hotel where the Bayville High Senior Prom was being held. 

All during the car ride, Pietro felt fine. And then, when Lance finally parked the vehicle, butterflies attacked his stomach in full-force. Oh yeah, things were definitely easier said than done. 

_I wanna go home. Wanna go home, make out with Lance, and possibly fuck. Don'tWannaBeHere. WannaBeAtHome!_ he thought frantically, completely ignoring Lance. 

"Um, Pietro? Hey, Pietro!" Lance quickly shook the other boy, finally getting his attention. "We're here." 

"I-- ah--" Pietro gulped, then nodded. _Lance reeeeally looks nice tonight_, he noted, observing how different the older boy looked when clad in a nice, simple black tux instead of his usual ensemble. 

"Nervous? We don't have to go, you know," Lance offered, though he obviously didn't mean what he said. After all, everything was on him (and partially John, and even Mystique, though she didn't quite know it yet...) and they were already there. He held Pietro's hand, slipping fingers between fingers. "But you know I'm going to be right here with you. If anything bad happens, you know I'll--" 

Pietro shushed him with a quick kiss and said "I know," as his confidence was restored. _Okay, this is definitely easier said than done. Just think of this as a new challenge, Pietro._ His little mental pep-talk was some help-- well, enough to get him out of the car. After that, he was practically dragged by Lance to the entrance. For once, Quicksilver had to try and keep up with someone else. 

The man at the entrance looked at them funny, to which Lance responded with putting his arm around Pietro and growling: "We've got tickets." 

_Defensive much?_ Pietro thought with amusement, and tried to smile nicely at the perplexed, and also a little intimidated, man as Lance shoved the tickets into the man's hands. He was then dragged into the ballroom, where the rest of Bayville High's senior class (and their dates) were having a good time. "Lance, what's your hurry?!" 

Lance swerved around and caught Pietro around the waist. "I'm just in a crazy mood, I guess," he whispered in his date's ear as he began to move to the music that was currently playing. It was a fast number, one that Pietro found himself caught up in as he began to loosen up. 

"Is anyone staring at us?" he asked warily as they danced. 

"If they are, fuck 'em." 

"With pleasure, Lance," Pietro grinned. 

"Mm, but you're still my virgin, remember?" Lance purred, tightening his hold on the speedy mutant. "And tonight--" 

"Not tonight." 

"Huh?" 

"Tomorrow morning," Pietro corrected. "It'll be past midnight by the time we leave this place and--" 

"Really?!" His excited exclamation caught a couple of looks, and some attention was finally spared for the two. 

_Ah, shit._

Then, those staring at the couple simply shrugged and went back to their dancing, though some were more reluctant to do so than others. 

Pietro blinked. Lance didn't seem to notice. 

"Really?" he asked again in a softer voice. 

"Yes, really," Pietro affirmed, with a laugh. _I bet his mind's gonna be on that for the rest of the night._

The song ended, and quickly the mood changed from upbeat to slow and romantic as the band on stage began a new tune. Lance immediately adjusted his speed, and Pietro in turn wrapped his arms around Lance's neck in a small hug. 

"I like slow dances," he murmured to Lance. "They're probably the only thing I like slow..." 

"Mm hm," the seismically-inclined mutant replied. "See, this wasn't so hard, was it?" 

"Nope." 

"Hm, you know what I've never done at a dance?" 

"No grinding." 

"Aww, come on!" 

"No grinding," Pietro repeated with a smirk. "We'll be doing enough of that laaaater," he said teasingly. 

"Ain't love grand?" someone asked as they were approached by a particularly cheery couple. 

"Fuck off, John," retorted Lance with a genuine smile. 

"Hey, Pietro, like the suit. Aren't you glad I have such great taste, Lance?" 

"I don't see you fucking off, John. By the way, Wanda, you look pretty. Too bad your date's such a dork." 

"Oh, ouch. Your boyfriend's a real ass, you know, Pietro," John commented as Wanda said "Thanks" and returned the compliment to Lance. 

"Hey, Pietro?" 

"Pietro? Helloooo." 

"Huh?" Pietro shook away his happy trance and smiled at his sister and her boyfriend. "Yeaaah." 

"Do you even know what we were talking about?" 

Pietro shook his head. "Sorry, I was too wrapped up in Lance's neck. Thinking about kissing it and sucking it and--" 

"All right, all right. Have fun, kiddies. Come on, Wanda, let's get some drinks." 

"Sure," she laughed in return. "Good luck with Lance's neck, brother." 

"Mmm, thanks, Pietro mumbled incoherently as he proceeded to begin his tasks involving Lance's neck. 

"Oooh, that's-- ah. We're still-- ah-- at the dance-- mmm-- right?" 

"Mmm hmm." 

"Damn," cursed Lance. "Ahh, right there-- yeah-- that's niiiice." 

_Hickey-making's fun!_ Pietro thought with a giggle, bringing his face up to meet Lance's for another kiss, tongue (_Batteries not_) included. 

* * * * * 

As fun as dancing was, Pietro found himself quite enjoying the amazing feat known as "sitting". He leaned back in his seat, watching Lance dance with his sister and Allerdyce playfully attempting to coax Jean into dancing with him as Summers looked on with a very irked glare. 

Pietro laughed at Summers' discomfort and stood up to get some drinks as the others danced (or tried to, anyway). He figured they'd probably wants some refreshments when the song was over, so he'd just go ahead and spare them the trouble of getting some. 

The small group of people around the refreshments parted like the Red Sea as he approached, making him feel a little uncomfortable. 

_Idiot,_ he told himself. _Why should I feel freaky? No one's done anything or even said anything bad to us this whole night._ He looked at his watch. It was 11:10, which meant the dance would be over in about an hour. _It'd be great if nothing bad happened this whole night..._

Of course, he soon found out that was an impossibility as it was soon revealed to him that Duncan Matthews was standing right in front of the table. 

"Hey, Maximoff, what the hell is a little faggot like you doing here?" he sneered. 

"Getting drinks, _Dunc_," the sophomore retorted coldly. 

"Here's a drink for ya," Duncan offered, flinging a drink at Pietro, who was suddenly very thankful for his powers as he easily sidestepped the projected liquid and watched it splash against one of Duncan's Neolithic friends. 

"You need to work on your aim." 

Lance, in a manner much akin to Lassie, sensed trouble and made his way to the scene. Pietro, ignoring this, was on Duncan in a flash, grabbing the older boy by the collar of his shirt. "Don't screw with me again, youGotThat,Duncan?" 

"Couldn't quite hear you, freak," the football player snapped in reply, shoving the smaller teen back and into Lance. 

"What's going on here?" Summers suddenly asked in that authoritarian voice of his as he arrived to the scene. 

"Just showing that little fruit and his dumbass boyfriend that they're not welcome here," snarled Duncan. A couple other people spoke in agreement to his words-- people who previously didn't care at all that Lance and Pietro happened to be at the dance together. The ground began to shake following these words, tripping a few people here and there. 

"What the hell?!" 

"Lance, quit it," Pietro hissed. 

Lance sighed and complied, clutching his head from the slight pain that was beginning to emerge from his powers. "I'm gonna kill him," he growled. 

"No, you aren't," Pietro countered, then ran forward and punched the off-guard football player in the jaw, causing the blonde to stagger back. He then swiftly turned to Lance and said in a near shouting voice: "IKnewThisWasABadIdea!" before running out. 

"God _damn_ it!" Lance growled, staring after him. 

"That's it, I'm gonna beat the shit out of that--" Duncan started, but couldn't finish due to Lance's hitting him roughly near the same spot Pietro had. 

"You stupid fuck!" Lance spat, about to throw himself onto the other boy and beat at him, when he felt both Summers and John holding him back. 

"You're gonna get in trouble, you idiot!" one of them said, though Lance wasn't sure which one because he was too busy seeing red. 

"I don't care!" 

"Oh, you moron!" John turned him around and smacked him across the face. "Go get Pietro before he does something stupid!" 

"But what about--?" 

"Someone else will deal with this loser, okay?" Scott answered, much to Lance's surprise. 

He nodded at the two and said: "Thanks", then pushed past the crowd to catch Pietro. 

Lance didn't have to run or search for long, as he found Pietro sitting sullenly in his jeep, his chin resting on his knees, which were drawn up to his chest. He was staring straight ahead, peering at the windshield with piercing blue eyes, and his jaw was clenched. 

"I'm sorry, Pietro," he apologized softly, standing beside the jeep. 

"It's not your fault-- well, actually, it is. It is your fault. I told you how I felt about going out in public, and you said to just 'fuck everyone else'." 

"I'm sorry." 

"You know what my grandmother told me before she was probably torn apart by a bunch of pissed off villagers? I just figured it out. She told me 'One madman makes many madmen, and many madmen make madness'. She told me that in Romany, so up until today, I couldn't remember for the life of me what those words in that 'crazy language' I was dreaming about meant. I saw how those people inside were turning to Duncan's side so quickly, and I was afraid that they were going to finish off what those people back in that stupid little European village tried to start. Do you know how frightening that is?" 

"No," Lance answered honestly, "I can't say that I do..." 

"Of course you can't! My whole life, even before my powers emerged, I've been a freak. I wasn't as accepted as Wanda was with the Roma because of my light hair and skin, even though I didn't realize that then, I know it now. And then, people who weren't Roma hated me because I was. And _then_, I was brought _here_ under circumstances that I _still_ can't remember, even though it seems like everything else is coming back to me-- and, as a child, I wasn't accepted because I couldn't speak English very well... AndThenIStartToLikeBoys. AndThenI'mAMutant. Why the hell can't I be normal?!" 

"Because... you couldn't stand being 'normal'," Lance offered. He walked around to the other side of the jeep and got in. He wrapped one arm around Pietro and held him close, listening to the muffled sobs coming from the other boy. "Shh," he soothed. "It's okay. You don't have to worry about being normal when you're with me and the Brotherhood, you know. We're a family, and we don't give a damn about acting like perfect all-American shits. And forget everyone else. Let them act like close-minded pricks. You've always got me, Freddy, John, Todd, and your sister to back you up, you know. That's more than some people have..." 

Pietro nodded in agreement, then shook his head and pulled away from Lance. He settled back in his seat and said, "Can we just go home now?" 

Lance pulled out his key and stuck it in the ignition. "Sure." 

* * * * * 

It was nearly midnight by the time Lance pulled into the driveway. Pietro unbuckled his seatbelt, then exited car and slowly trudged to the house. 

"Hey, Pietro, stop," Lance suddenly said. 

"Huh?" 

Lance pointed at his watch, knowing full-well that Pietro couldn't see the time, and said: "It's about time for the last dance." 

"Midnight already?" 

Lance nodded and stuck a CD in its player. Before the song could start, he hopped out of the jeep and took Pietro's hand. "May I have this dance?" 

"You trying to be romantic, Alvers?" Pietro retorted, cocking an eyebrow. "Of course you can have this dance." 

Lance pulled him onto the lawn as the song started with a couple of slow chords. 

"I thought you didn't like this song," Pietro said as he recognized it. 

"I didn't... until I heard it again, that is, and realized how much it described my feelings for you..." 

_"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing,  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping,  
While you're far away and dreaming.  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender,  
I could stay lost in this moment forever,  
Every moment I spend with you is a moment I treasure." _

"I don't wanna miss a thing," Lance whispered in Pietro's ear. "I love you, and I don't care if you can't say the words back. I just wanted to tell you that... I love you." 

"Lance," Pietro whispered, resting his head on the other boy's chest. "Thank you." 

_"I don't wanna close my eyes,  
I don't wanna fall asleep,  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
'Cause even when I dream of you,  
The sweetest dream would never do,  
I'd still miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing." _

"No problem," Lance said simply, not sure what else to say. Pietro seemed content with this, and they continued to dance in relative silence, the song being the only thing they were hearing at the moment. 

_"Lying close to feeling your heart beating,  
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,  
Wondering if it's me you're seeing.  
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together,  
And I just wanna stay with you  
In this moment forever, forever and ever." _

"I don't wanna close my eyes.  
I don't wanna fall asleep,  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby,   
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
'Cause even when I dream of you,  
The sweetest dream would never do,  
I'd still miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing." 

"I don't wanna miss one smile,  
I don't wanna miss one kiss.  
Well, I just wanna be with you,  
Right here with you, just like this.  
I just wanna hold you close,  
I feel your heart so close to mine,  
And just stay here in this moment  
For all the rest of time." 

"Don't wanna close my eyes,  
Don't wanna fall asleep,  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
'Cause even when I dream of you,  
The sweetest dream will never do,  
'Cause I'd still miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing." 

"I don't wanna close my eyes.  
I don't wanna fall asleep,  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby,   
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
'Cause even when I dream of you,  
The sweetest dream would never do,  
I'd still miss you, baby,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing." 

"Don't wanna close my eyes,  
I don't wanna fall asleep, yeah,  
I don't wanna miss a thing." 

Lance smiled and held Pietro close to him, wishing the moment would never end. Unfortunately, it did as the next track on the CD began and he rushed over to the car to stop it. He pulled the keys out of the ignition, then turned to Pietro. 

"Heh, sorry about that." 

"It's okay," Pietro answered, smiling too. "Do you know what I want now?" 

"I hope it's what I hope it is," Lance returned. The other boy swiftly grabbed him and kissed him forcefully. _Woohoo-- Wait, do I have condoms-- ah, yes I do. Okay. Woohoo!_

"Right. Now." 

"But not right here," Lance whispered, leading Pietro into the house and upstairs to his room. The younger mutant immediately threw his jacket off and began unbuttoning his shirt. He stripped down to his boxers, as Lance did the same, then pulled the larger boy onto the bed with him and showered him with kisses. 

"Thank God you move fast," Lance chuckled. 

"Lance? I love you. Thought you should know that. I love you." 

"I know." 

The End

A/N: Hey, you made it this far! Okay, sorry if this chapter dragged, and sorry if some of the jokes didn't make any sense. That would be because they were probably some personal jokes between myself and my friends... or just myself. Karaoke Pyro, singing Magneto ("I admit that in the past I've been a nasty, they weren't kidding when they called me Mag-ne-to!"), flip-flops, Blob's secret girlfriend, and so forth are just some (or all) of them. Heheheee. Oh yeah, and look! Pietro and Lance finally have sex! 

Oh yeah, and as for the Romany way back up in the story, I have no idea how accurate it was because I just snagged it from a nifty little website that you can find: [here][1]

Anyway, I've already started the sequel even though I told myself I'd take a break from writing first. x_X Apparently, I'm a big liar. Anywho, be sure to expect this: death (wait... yeah, I don't know. I can't remember right now), violence, betrayal (oooh), angsty fun, John FINALLY being able to call himself Pyro, Wanda FINALLY being able to call herself the Scarlet Witch, umm.... sex? (if I feel like writing a sex scene, that is, so don't hold your breath), the return of Blob's girlfriend, and more things that I can't think of right now/can't mention because they're spoilers. Man, I hate writing battle scenes, but I'm going to have to for this ~_~;; Ah, and here I go rambling again.... 

Wow, I just now realized I totally forgot to write in John's reaction to the flip-flops. Oh well, just picture this: A lot of screaming and Pietro chasing. There. 

Uh, are you still reading this? Well, if you are, I guess I'll once again say thanks, and wow, this fic is actually over... Bye bye! 

   [1]: http://www.crosswinds.net/~savagedesires/fanfics/



End file.
